


We Will Always Come Back to Each Other

by Musichick2004



Category: Criminal Minds, NCIS
Genre: Anal Sex, Case Fic, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s05e07 Requiem, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hate Crimes, Holidays, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Horseback Riding, Horses, Internalized Homophobia, Jealous gibbs, Jealousy, M/M, Major Character Injury, Makeup Sex, Making Love, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Racism, Racist Language, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8748286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musichick2004/pseuds/Musichick2004
Summary: Tony gives Gibbs the gift of a rustic vacation, but what happens when a case interrupts their fun, and the lead on the case is none other than Tony's ex? Will they go home happy, or will Gibbs blow up one last time?





	1. December 21, AM

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jacie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacie/gifts).



> I hope this fic is worthy of the amazing author who puts together all these challenges! Happy reading, Jacie!
> 
> Many thanks to my beta for the great beta-ing and suggestions! I made a few minor changes after her last reading, so I hope it's still as good as she helped make it :). It's still anonymous, but she knows who she is. I'll edit this note after the reveal.

“You planned this, Tony, you can't complain now,” Gibbs joked, good-naturedly.

“I was hoping for more 'keeping warm by the fire’ and less 'bouncing around on a horse and freezing my arse off,’ thank you.” Tony shouted from much further back on the trail. “I don't even think there's a trail anymore. We should have let them send someone with us.”

Gibbs easily swung his horse around and trotted back to Tony, “Come on, it’s not bad. These guys are used to a little snow, right?” He patted the side of his horse’s neck.

“A little?” Tony scoffed and shivered, “there's two feet out here!”

Gibbs rolled his eyes. “8 or 9 inches, maybe.” He ducked under a somewhat low branch and took the lead again.

“I’ll give you 8 inches…” Tony mumbled.

“Heard that!”

Tony shook his head. Gibbs was so farsighted it was really sad, but he had hearing like a damn bat. “Wait, don't lose me!” He tried to urge his horse into a faster pace, but apparently they'd given him the one that was part snail. “Oh, come ON!” He hated kicking the horse’s sides, but the damn animal wasn't moving beyond a slow plodding walk.

“Use your thighs, Tony,” Gibbs shouted back to him.

“Later!” Tony growled.

“No,” Gibbs returned again, that infuriating half smirk on his face, “use your thighs instead of kicking the poor thing. Think of it like a trigger. Squeeze.” Gibbs patted his thigh and loped off again, easily spinning the horse with one hand on the reins.

Tony took a breath and really squeezed his horse, his heels twitching mostly from the contraction of the muscles, rather than a kicking action. Miraculously, the horse picked up the pace. His balls weren't happy with the bouncing, but at least he wouldn't be left behind to freeze to death.


	2. December 21, PM

“Mmmmm, this is more like it…” Tony hummed in appreciation as his lover sat on the rug behind him after they’d gotten back. “Coffee? This late?”

Gibbs snorted, “I made you hot cocoa, easier on your delicate sensibilities.” He passed the mug around over Tony’s shoulder and wrapped his other arm around the man’s waist. “Cinnamon sprinkled on top.”

“With whipped cream! Have I told you how much I love you?” Tony wiggled with happiness. This was definitely his favorite part of the trip. Sitting on the soft rug in front of the real (not gas-powered) fireplace in the small cabin, pine garlands stretched across the mantel and around the windows, holiday music playing on the clock radio.

“Yes, you have.” Gibbs kissed the back of Tony's neck. He’d left his coffee on the end table, he just wanted to hold his lover right now.

“Jethro…” Tony's voice got quiet. It always meant he was trying to really say something deeply important to him. Something real. Gibbs  _ always _ listened when Tony was quiet. “Thank you.”

“You planned this, I should be thanking you,” he responded, resting his chin on Tony's shoulder and pulling him even closer to his chest.

“No, I mean...I know the holidays suck for you. I may complain about your ‘bah humbug’, but really I'm just trying to help you be happier...that's ok, right?”

The insecurity in Tony’s voice made Gibbs clench his jaw. He knew he’d added to that feeling in their earlier years working together, but it wasn't all him. And he would do anything to make it go away. “It’s more than OK. Making new memories is a good thing.”

“I'm not trying to…” Tony shrugged, not finishing his sentence.

“Not trying to  _ what _ , Tony?” Gibbs reached up and tipped Tony's chin to look back at him.

“You have plenty of good memories, I'm not trying to replace them or anything.” Tony said, then pulled chin away and focused intently on his hot cocoa.

“I'm not  _ that  _ old, Tony!” Gibbs scoffed. “It’s not like I'm gonna forget things if I have new memories.” He kissed Tony's cheek, then sighed.  _ Communication _ . Something he needed to work on. “I was a bastard for a lot of years. I thought it would be a betrayal to be happy, because what if I was somehow happier now, than I was with them, y’know? But you knocked some sense into me. So, again, I should thank  _ you _ for this trip.”

Tony grinned, then leaned back and wiggled closer between Gibbs's thighs as he leaned against the front of the small sofa. “Yeah, you should. The first REAL vacation we get in over a year, almost coinciding with our anniversary, and I buy a winter horseback getaway? In a barely-heated cabin in the middle of nowhere, Montana? Sacrificing the possibility of warm tropical beaches, jetted hot tubs, and room service for a place called GLACIER National park, and views of Mount Simpson out the back window? This was ALL about you. I may have to act the snow bunny tomorrow.”

“It’s Mount  _ Stimson _ . And ‘snow bunny’?”

“Yeah. Chicks who 'go skiing’ but really just spend the day in the lodge trying to look cute in their designer snow gear. I have designer snow gear…” Tony mused.

“Unh-uh. If I'm going riding, you're going riding. The guide mentioned some great views on the longer trail. You really got the hang of it today.”  _ Much better than the last time we went riding… _ Gibbs had to smile a little at the memory of watching his SFA try to keep up in the desert.

Tony finished his cocoa and turned around. He knelt in front of Gibbs and reached over him to put the empty mug on the end table. When he returned, he sat back on his heels, “I've got some views you can appreciate,” he said, giving Gibbs an exaggerated wink.

Gibbs tapped the back of Tony's head, “you're horrible.”

“Ok, ok, how about this one…” he raised an eyebrow seductively, “I've got something else you could slap,” and wiggled his hips.

“Still horrible. But I get the hint. Let's go share body heat.” Gibbs kissed Tony and pushed him back onto his feet. His knees popped as he rose, but he followed Tony quickly to the bed. They'd been together almost 2 years now, and even though they weren't fucking like rabbits against every vacant surface anymore, Tony was still insatiable when the opportunity presented itself.

Tony flopped backwards with a groan onto the king size bed of the small rental. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and unzipped his fly, but that was as far as he’d gotten. “Help?” He begged, flailing his socked feet at Gibbs, who chuckled.

“The horse did most of the work today, babe.”

Tony groaned, “but I'm  _ sore _ !”

Gibbs grabbed the hem of his jeans and pulled them down, bringing his boxer briefs halfway down his thighs with them. He made short work of the socks and underwear, then stripped himself. By the time he’d climbed onto the bed, Tony hadn't moved, but was certainly hard. Gibbs reached into their bags and found the lube. At the familiar click of the cap, Tony's hands dropped to his groin. “Wait...uh...my legs aren't the only thing that’s sore…” he shifted and started to slide off the bed to his knees, “I can just…”

Gibbs caught him, “there’s no ‘just’ about it when you suck me off, Tony. But how's this?” He pulled Tony back onto the bed, lying on his back, and crawled over top of him. He leaned back and straddled his thighs, letting their cocks line up and start sliding together gently. Tony’s flushed face and blown pupils told him just how good of an idea this was. “Still want me on top of you?” Gibbs whispered as he pressed his body down against Tony.

Tony nodded quickly, his hands grasping his lover’s sides. Sometimes he loved taking control, but right now he just wanted to feel taken care of. He wanted Jethro to make love to him. His ass wasn’t sore enough to make him decline sex if it was what Jethro really wanted, but this position was so much better than it had ever been with any of the other guys he’d been with. They were perfectly aligned, their torsos exactly the same height (Tony’s legs were a few inches longer...that, plus the tube socks, gave him the advantage the day they met. Gibbs TOTALLY didn't 'let’ himself get caught). Jethro's cock was slightly shorter, but thicker, enough so that his precum slid easily between them and Tony felt like whatever skin wasn't pressed against his own belly was enveloped by the firm flesh. It took concentration on Jethro's part to keep them together, to keep their cocks sliding perfectly along each other, and the care he took felt more like lovemaking than penetration sometimes.

Gibbs slowly thrust his hips against his partner. Tony’s breath was deep but shaky, and he moaned into his mouth as they kissed. Tony was an amazing kisser. Always had been, but it seemed like he just kept getting better. He was just that kind of guy, he loved surprising Gibbs, he loved pleasing him, he loved learning everything he could and bettering his techniques, whether it was kissing or whittling with him in the basement. “God, Tony…” Gibbs closed his eyes and moved his lips to suck on Tony’s jaw. “The things you do to me…”

Tony chuckled, his Adam's apple bouncing against the lips now brushing against it, “I think it’s  _ you _ doing things to  _ me _ right now.”

Gibbs grinned, then attacked Tony’s throat, nipping and sucking, leaving dark marks in his wake. “I’ll do even more…” then he leaned back and poured lube into his hand.

Tony stilled his hips until he felt the slick grip around both of their cocks. He hissed at the cold, but bucked upward. He reached up to Gibbs's neck and pulled the man down as far as he could go, leaving just enough room between them for the movement of his arm as he stroked and pulled their cocks together. Tony let himself float on a high of endorphins and oxytocin as he kissed the man he loved, their bodies undulating against each other, the slow build of his orgasm already forming low in his belly. “I love you. So much.” He gasped, barely breaking the connection between their lips.

Gibbs slid his other forearm under Tony's upper back, pressing most of his body against the man thrusting beneath him, and leaning the rest of his weight on his elbow. As much as he relished the feeling of thrusting into the tight heat of Tony's ass, tonight he'd just wanted the closeness of making love. He wanted to feel every movement, every gasp and moan, no matter how small. He wanted to press Tony into the mattress and give him everything he wanted, everything he needed. The slide of sweat slicked skin against his, his palm and fingers against their cocks, Tony's soft swollen lips against his, was more than he ever thought he'd have just 2 years ago, and now it was all his. Tony was his. Tony was declaring his love for him, even after all his head slaps and hermit-like behavior. “I love you, Tony. More than anything.” He squeezed them together slightly harder, feeling the familiar rush pooling at the base of his spine. “You make me happy. Happier than I've been in a very long time.” He felt Tony's breath coming in shorter bursts, soft moans accentuating each one. “Thank you,” he whispered into Tony's ear, letting his face press against Tony's cheek as he thrust harder against him. “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony didn't get this version of Gibbs often. It took extraordinary circumstances to make him talk, and it was happening more and more often, especially when they were in bed. Gibbs was vocal then, which had surprised Tony at first, and usually it involved cursing and lots of dirty talk, but sometimes what he said when they made love had so much heart behind it that Tony was worried he’d explode. The soft expressions of gratitude fell from his lips as Tony gripped him tight and it felt like a shock wave of warm energy swirled through his body, tightening his muscles, arching his back, and with his lover's name on his lips, the energy burst from him, sliding between their naked bodies, pumping over and over until he felt Jethro curl against him in his own release, sucking a mark directly below his ear.

They were sticky, sweaty, saddle sore, and smelled slightly of sawdust and horse, even after their shower. And they couldn't be happier.

Slowly, as their breathing and heart rates returned to normal, Gibbs pulled himself fully off of Tony and flopped onto his back. Tony rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around Gibbs's waist, kissing him gently. “Love you.” Tony said with a smile.

“Love you too.” Gibbs blinked slowly and gave a small sigh as he squeezed Tony in a hug. After a few moments of silence, Gibbs smirked. “Maybe after tomorrow's ride, you should take a break from the horses.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

Gibbs winked, “you can get sore from riding  _ me _ .”

Tony groaned and pushed him away, “now who’s horrible?”

Gibbs chuckled as Tony got up and headed for the shower. “Coming, Cowboy?” Gibbs nodded and quickly followed along.


	3. December 22, AM

Gibbs sighed, in awe at the sight before him. “Come on, DiNozzo! You’ll miss it!” He heard the slightly larger horse plodding through the snow behind him.

“If these things came with cupholders for my coffee, this would be a hell of a lot more enjoyable.” Tony grumbled. But when he stopped next to his lover, it was all worth it. Waking up at 4am, trekking through the mountains guided by reflective trail markers and flashlights, to witness a sunrise over the wild valley below, it was all worth it. Not for the sunrise, not for Tony at least, he’d be more than happy to see a photo in a few hours, but for the look of peace on Jethro's face. The sunrise was Tony's gift to him, and the happiness he saw was gift enough for Tony. Slowly, he tried to inch his horse closer so he could hold his hand.

“I couldn't ask for more, Tony.” Gibbs smiled at the clear sky, turning beautiful shades of pink and orange as the sun began to crest over the horizon.

After several minutes of near-religious reverence, Tony began to get antsy. He knew Gibbs could stay out here riding the trails for hours, but he had a buffet brunch planned, and he was trying to hide the growling noises he felt coming from his stomach.

In his fidgeting, he started observing his surroundings more closely. The animal tracks, marks on the trees from bears or deer, broken branches along the trail, and something shiny catching the light just down the hill. It was metallic, which probably meant litter. _Definitely not a boy scout_ , he thought, imagining some teenager tossing a beer can down the ridge. Until he looked closer. _You’ve got to be kidding me._ “Hey, do you see what I see?” He asked.

“I see a beautiful sunrise, perfectly arranged by the man I love, whom I probably don't deserve…” Gibbs replied, still staring off into space.

“Not the sunrise. Down the hill.” Tony leaned forward to try and get a better look.

“Tony, you're gonna fall off the damn horse, would ya sit up?” Gibbs grumbled.

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. He leaned into the stirrup and swung his leg over the back of the horse, then passed the reins to Gibbs. “I’m serious. Hold this.” He ignored Gibbs's protests as he half-slid down the rocky side of the hill, blowing snow behind him until he made it to the outcropping below. He bent down and gently brushed the snow back. “Shit.”

“Is that what i think it is?” Gibbs shouted down to him.

“Looks like our vacation is cut short, Boss.” Tony straightened, the frozen corpse at his feet, with a set of Marine dog tags dangling from a branch nearby.

Jethro sighed as he looked at his phone. “No service up here.”

Tony threw his hands in the air. “Of course! Because we can't _possibly_ have anything go right. Fine, you go, I’ll wait here with the body.”

Gibbs held his phone up in the air like Rafiki in the lion King. “I’m not leaving you. Get up here, we’ll go together.” Something in his gut told him it wasn't a good idea to split up. If something bad was going to happen, it usually happened to Tony, it seemed.

“Gibbs, just go. I’ll be fine. There are no bad guys, ok? No tracks, and the snow is at least a day old. I’m just here to keep the buzzards away.”

He didn't like it, but Tony was right. Scavengers would compromise evidence. “I’m tying the horse to a tree, in case you need to get outta here. Don't be a goddamn hero, Tone.”

“I'm _always_ a hero, Boss. Go call the LEOs, I’ll be fine.” Tony sighed and leaned against a tree to wait.

* * *

 

“I’ll be fine...famous last words, DiNozzo.” Tony snarled to himself. Twenty minutes. That’s how long Gibbs had been gone before it happened. He’d shifted wrong and hit an icy patch under the snow, then slid sideways down the hill. Just about a foot, but the damage was done. One ankle bent in, which hurt, but would be just fine. The other? Yeah, ankles weren’t made to bend out. Put 180 pounds of pressure onto it, and the bone snapped. OK, 200. Maybe 220. Five. Whatever, regardless…Tony couldn't even stay safe and uninjured for half a goddamn hour. He looked down at his ankle, twisted unnaturally outward, and winced. But he was a federal agent, if he was going to be sitting down on the job, he’d make the best of it, and pulled his large smartphone from his jacket, unclicking the stylus and starting to sketch, hoping he’d be able to stave off hypothermia until help arrived.

Just as he’d finished taking what photos he could, and his body was starting to slump lower in the snow, he heard the sound of hooves coming up the trail.

“Jesus! Tony!” He heard a frantic scramble of boots and rocks and snow, then felt arms around him, lifting him up.

“Ankle, Boss…” he managed to grit out.

“You gotta move, DiNozzo. That's an order.” Gibbs barked at him, rubbing his hands up and down Tony's body. Finally, the younger agent swung an arm over his shoulder and the pair practically crawled up the hill to where the Sheriff and a few deputies had arrived, also on horseback. They quickly covered him in blankets, stripping off his wet pants, but they had to wait for medical assistance.

Once Tony’s teeth stopped chattering, he looked Gibbs in the eye. “Go help. I know you want to. Make sure they don't fuck it up.” He handed over his phone.

“What’s this for?” Gibbs took the phone.

“It has my sketches. And some photos, but I couldn't be as detailed as I wanted. Fix it. Please.”

Once he realized Tony wasn't taking 'no’ for an answer, he let Tony help get the camera app on his new phone working. Gibbs grumbled at the lack of sophistication of the local LEOs, and for once he was glad Tony had convinced him to get this damned smart phone. At least he could do _something_ while they waited for their Montana counterparts to show, and he was humbled by the amount Tony had already completed, even with a broken ankle.

“Feds are on their way, said to expect 'em in about 2 hours.” The young deputy came jogging up the trail. “EMTs are gonna land the chopper on the clearing down the hill--can you ride, Agent?” Tony nodded, and instantly Gibbs was by his side, helping him stand.

“It’s just an ankle, Boss,” Tony said, through gritted teeth, “get back to that Marine.”

Gibbs saw the apprehension in Tony's eyes as he looked around at the LEOs watching them. He nodded, now was not exactly the time to test their level of tolerance. “DiNozzo, you did good work. I'll let these fine officers handle the scene until our replacements arrive. You know I won't let a member of my team ride to the hospital alone.”

Tony glared, but it sounded legit. Especially when Gibbs smacked the back of his head. “Now move it.” He helped Tony onto his horse, gravity pulling at the makeshift splint and making him clench his jaw in pain at every jostle of the horse's stride.

* * *

 

“Merry Christmas to you too, Jethro.” Fornell grumbled as he hung up the phone. He dialed another number he knew by heart. “Agent Hotchner? You're gonna have fun. NCIS has two agents on the scene, and they're not happy giving up jurisdiction.” He paused, listening to the other man ask how they found out, how they'd arrived so quickly, and who the agents were. “Agent Gibbs.” He smirked at the low sigh, “I'll be there when I can to run interference, but some of us don't have a private jet.”

As he hung up the phone, he started packing. He really was looking forward to watching the two alpha males duke it out over this. Even though it meant passing off his current case to another team, he was actually glad Jethro had called him to ask for his help.

* * *

Five hours later, Tony stood in the sitting area of their rented cabin, leaning on his shiny new crutches. “Gibbs, if you're going, I'm going. The faster we solve this case, the faster we can get back to our holiday. We've got three days until Christmas, damnit!”

Gibbs put a hand on his forehead, “Tony, just how are you going to maneuver with _that_ ,” he pointed to the heavy splint applied to his leg in the emergency room, “in almost a foot of snow? On a GODDAMN MOUNTAIN?!” He snarled and threw his hands in the air. “Why couldn't you just stay put?”

It was Tony's turn to yell. “Pardon me for trying to _help_ ! It's my job! One I'm pretty damn good at, thank you. I'm _so sorry_ I've ruined your vacation.”

Gibbs sighed. _Count to 5._ One of the stupid techniques his counselor had given him for when things spiraled too far, but it seemed to help. _1...2...3…_ he took a deep breath... _4...5…_ “I was scared. I hate seeing you hurt. You were cold, Tony. Too cold.” The basis of his frustration… He just wanted Tony safe.

Tony sighed, “yeah, I was there.” He hobbled closer, “I hate being useless.” His own semi-apology. “Why the hell isn't the nearest NCIS field office handling this, anyway? Why the feebs?” He leaned on his good foot and one crutch and stroked his lover's face with his other hand.

“Serial killer. Been taking out young black men across the area. This is the fourth one. They called in the FBI last week.” Gibbs wrapped an arm around Tony's waist. “The rest weren't ours. One college kid home from school, one army grunt, and one ranch hand.”

Tony stiffened. Serial killer meant…”BAU?”

Gibbs nodded. “I called Fornell while you were in x-ray. He doesn't have much pull out here, but I guess he knows this team. Old bastard might be good for something.” He saw the tight jaw and tense shoulders, “look, they need to ask us questions anyway. Let's get to the station and help there. Fair enough?”

Tony grabbed his jacket and swung toward the door without a word.


	4. December 22, PM

“Wait, what the hell do you mean, you need to _detain_ us?!” Tony shouted. “First of all, if you consider us suspects, then it’s stupid to keep us together. That's rule number one. Second, if we did something like this, why the hell would we call you first, report our own crime, and then come _back_ to the station to answer your questions?!” He paced awkwardly around the small interview room, glaring at the deputy across from him. Gibbs simply sat in his chair, hands folded, looking for all the world like he was taking a nap.

“You had detailed photos of the crime scene on your personal phone. What kind of sicko does that?” The deputy shuddered. “Oh, wait, _your_ kind.”

At his tone, Gibbs cracked an eyelid. Tony had this, but he was hindered by the crutches, Gibbs needed to stay on his toes, just in case the prick tried anything physical.

“ _My_ kind?” Tony slowly spun on his good foot and closed the distance to the pompous ass. “What kind would that be? Former homicide detectives? Undercover specialists? Federal agents? Locally semi-famous musicians?” The last one made Gibbs’s lip quirk slightly, remembering the last trip to the club Tony sang and played at in Baltimore. He couldn't believe people wanted autographs, but Gibbs hadn't been surprised in the least.

“Queers.” The deputy hissed. Gibbs shook his head almost imperceptibly, as he saw Tony’s body start to shake and he glanced over. When he didn't lash out, the deputy smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Checked up on your accommodations. Not every day two federal agents request a king size bed. People talk around here.”

Tony felt his blood beginning to boil. Suddenly, Gibbs was standing next to him, a hand on his forearm, leaning about an inch from the deputy’s face. “I don't give two shits what people talk about in this podunk town. If you're that obsessed over what happens in my bedroom, then you're a goddamn pervert. We are federal agents, with an exemplary record, the highest solve rate in DC, and have alibis for every single murder you fools _think_ you're investigating. So get your head out of your narrow-minded asses, and let us get to work finding a MURDERER!” He slammed his fist on the table to accentuate the final word.

The door flew open. “Deputy, you are excused. Go home.” A tall, thin man with dark hair and eyes snarled at the uniformed prick, then strode across the room. “Agent, Gibbs, I presume?”

Gibbs straightened and nearly growled as the imbecile deputy scuttled away. “Yes. Are we still being _detained_?”

“SSA Hotchner,” he held out his hand, but Gibbs simply glared. “There was some miscommunication between our team and the locals. We _would_ like to ask you some questions, but simply to ascertain the condition of the crime scene prior to…”

“The morons trampling all over it?” Gibbs interrupted.

Hotch’s lip quirked very slightly. Tony noticed, but he didn't say anything. He’d kept a low profile until the man looked over Gibbs's shoulder and focused on his crutches and splint. “Tony, are you ok? They didn't…?” The concern in his voice was evident, and Tony squared his shoulders, not looking Gibbs in the eye.

“Yeah, Hotch, my own fault. Me, icy hill, not so good together.” He threw on his megawatt smile and grinned at the two men. Hotch just nodded and held the door for them, but Gibbs gave him a look that meant he’d have some 'splainin to do.

* * *

“Alright Tone, walk me through it one more time. Horseback sunrise, then…” Derek leaned back on his chair, chewing on the cap of his pen.

“I saw the tags. Just a glint of metal reflecting. Then I saw the hand sticking out of the snow, and went down to investigate.” Tony rubbed his forehead, “Come on, Derek. What the hell else do you want from us?”

“Your brain, DiNozzo. Come on man, there's something in your head, I can tell.” Morgan tapped the pad, “how did you see the tags?”

Tony ran a hand over his face, then stopped. “He wanted him to be found.” Nobody spoke, and Tony continued, wishing he could easily move about the room, “the dog tags were, what 13 inches above the ground? The killer placed them deliberately to avoid the snow. They weren't just tossed there.”

Morgan nodded, “the other bodies haven't been quite as remote, and this guy died 4 days ago.”

“That's when this area was supposed to get a foot of snow! I remember reading the weather report for our trip!” Tony was starting to get the endorphin rush from having a breakthrough, as small as it was. This wasn't just a careless body dump, it was someone who wanted the bodies found. It was intentional. Which usually meant there was some kind of message the killer wanted to send. Find the message, and they'd probably find the killer.

“Thanks man, I'll bring this to the team. Hotch is probably about done with your boss. If they haven't killed each other.”

Tony flushed, “nah, Gibbs would wait until he could do it without evidence.”

Derek laughed, his wide grin always a genuine one. “It's good to see you, man. Once that ankle heals up, I wanna see you back on the court. I think I might have an advantage,” he elbowed Tony's side good naturedly.

“Hey now, I'll have you know…” Tony started, then looked at his slightly squishy waistline and shrugged, “eh, maybe 16oz steaks twice a week and a steady diet of pizza, beer, and Chinese food _are_ starting to catch up.”

Derek held the door for him, and they flinched as they heard shouting from both of their bosses. “He good to you?” He asked.

A crash and slamming door signaled that it was probably Tony's cue to leave. “Yeah, surprisingly, after _that_ tantrum, he is.” Tony shrugged as he saw Gibbs storming down the hall. The man walked right by, crooking a finger as he went. Derek narrowed his eyes at Tony in concern. “Work Gibbs is a royal bastard, though.”


	5. December 22, Evening

“What the hell was that?” Gibbs spun and confronted Tony the second the door of the cabin shut.

“What the hell was what?” Tony asked, not backing up as Gibbs got into his personal space.

“You and Agent Hotchner? He didn't say as much, but I saw the way he looked at you.” Gibbs growled.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Gibbs. Jethro. Yeah, I dated him. So what?”

“So what? So, now he’s here and taking our case and…” Gibbs paused. He didn't even know why this was so upsetting. Oh wait, yes he did. He was a possessive bastard. He closed the last of the distance between them and claimed Tony's mouth with a kiss that left them both breathless. “So...you’re _mine_.”

Tony kissed Gibbs back, but a part of him was still irritated. He pushed back on Gibbs's chest. “Wait, wait...ok, some random guy ogles me, maybe I kinda find this possessiveness hot. But this is different. You're different this time.”

Gibbs growled in frustration. That cocky bastard, so much like him, but younger. Fitter. Less grey to his hair, less weathering to his skin. “How long were you…”

Tony sighed. “On and off? A little over 3 years. After his wife was killed, and he had to save his son by killing the bastard who did it, he drank. A lot. You’d left for Mexico and the team was going to shit...so I started drinking more. We’d seen each other at a bar a few times, both kinda screamed law enforcement, so we started talking.”

The explanation was like a kick in the gut. This man was like a parallel _him,_ and instead of dancing around each other for over a decade, Tony had gotten involved. This man had moved in on what he’d wanted all those years. “How long before you slid into bed with him? One drink? Maybe two?” Gibbs wasn't expecting the open-handed slap to the face.

Tony's speed belied his condition as he got into Gibbs's face. “Don't you _dare_ act like you have _any_ right to talk to me about my past relationships. If I recall, Aaron and I lasted longer than two of your last 3 marriages _combined._ I may be a flirt, but you don't get to talk to me like I'm a whore. Now _Get. Out._ Before you say something even stupider. _”_ He grabbed the keys on the table and threw them at Gibbs before gliding quickly to the bathroom.

Tony sat in the bathroom and fought the urge to pound his fist against something. He heard the cabin door slam, and his adrenaline ratcheted up even more. He tried to control his breathing, tried to calm his heart rate, sitting halfway between rage at Jethro and self-hatred.   
  
How could he say that? Imply that Tony really WAS the different-person-every-night man whore he portrayed himself as. If Kate had made that kind of comment? He’d roll with it. He knew she saw past it, but it was a running joke. Man-whore Tony. But it was never with real malice. She pretended to be the stuck up prudish Catholic girl, he pretended to be the dirty slut trying to corrupt her. In truth, they weren’t quite that different. But Gibbs had said it with venom. He’d lashed out JUST to hurt Tony. No other reason. No joking. Pure derision in his tone. And it was like a twisting knife to the gut. They never talked about the bad ones. The ex-wives, Wendy, the short-timers. They talked about the good things. About Shannon, about Keats. There was heartbreak, sure, but there were some really good memories. It was good to talk about the heartbreak too when it was with someone you loved and who loved you. At least Tony had believed Gibbs when he said he loved him.   
  
But he guessed this was partially his fault. He’d never mentioned Aaron. Never mentioned that Tony had sunk to the bottom of a bottle when Gibbs walked away with just a “you’ll do.” Never mentioned that Tony had fallen in love with the IDEA of Aaron. A gruff, stoic team lead who inspired fierce loyalty and threw himself into the fire for those he loved. A man broken by the loss of his wife. A younger Gibbs-substitute. He’d never mentioned that he’d avoided his son Jack for fear of getting attached, that Aaron had asked him to move in but he’d avoided answering for months, that the week before he’d run out, he’d seen a Google search on Aaron’s computer asking “do men wear engagement rings?” He’d never mentioned his heartbreak as he walked out on a good man. Aaron loved Tony more completely and fiercely than he’d ever believed possible, but Tony couldn’t return the love. Not the way he deserved. They’d talked a few days later, cleared the air, and while it hadn’t been pretty, at least they both understood. And he’d never mentioned that his guilt over leaving Aaron and Jack was what pushed him to spend more time with Gibbs. It might have been the catalyst that finally got them together, in some way.   
  
Tony and Gibbs had come a long way in their 23 months together. But Tony couldn’t shake the thought that maybe, just maybe, Gibbs really saw him as someone who slept around, someone who looked for meaningless sex wherever he could. He’d perpetuated the myth, of course, but he thought it was just transparent enough that those closest to him would see past it. At least a little. Did he seek superficial validation by flirting and enjoying the flushed, bashful smiles he got in return? Yes, of course. Did he use those skills to disarm witnesses and suspects as necessary? Duh. Did he, on occasion, find validation and acceptance in the arms of someone he felt understood him? Yes. And sometimes it _was_ only a one-time deal. Sometimes it lasted longer. But it was never inconsequential, and contrary to popular belief, he DID remember every single person he slept with. Dated? No. But if he went home with them, or took them to his home, it always meant something to him.   
  
He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror anymore. He left the pain pills on the counter and decided the lodge’s bar would have something better to dull the pain. Shrugging on his coat, he swung his body on the crutches all the way down the path from the cabin to the main lodge. 

* * *

Gibbs sat in the passenger seat of the truck, bourbon in hand, thinking about the crap he’d just pulled. He’d let Tony’s frat-boy mask get to him, purposely jabbed below the belt just because he was feeling insecure. He took another long pull from the bottle, when he saw the flashing lights behind him. “Great. Just great,” he mumbled to himself. Knowing he was the stranger in the middle of East Nowheresville, he stayed put until the officer knocked on the driver’s window. When the flashlight spun in his direction, he waved and pointed to the door handle. The officer went back behind the truck and approached the passenger side cautiously. With his hand on his hip, he ordered Gibbs to exit the vehicle slowly. Gibbs rolled his eyes, but considering his current level of intoxication, he didn’t want to spook the kid and have to risk hurting him. He swung open the door, placed his hands out where the kid could see, and identified himself. “Special Agent Gibbs, I am armed, just so ya know.” 

He heard a nervous cough as he slowly and not-too-gracefully stepped out of the truck. “Do you have identification?”   
  
Gibbs angled his head back to the truck, “On the dashboard. Look, you wanna get the creds, or you want me to get them?” He could tell the young officer was a little jumpy.   
  
“Uh…back away from the vehicle…I can get them.”   
  
Gibbs rolled his eyes. Not the smartest choice, since it would involve the kid turning his back on someone who was obviously carrying a Sig on his hip, but he just did what he was told for once.   
  
“I apologize, Agent Gibbs,” the officer said, handing him his badge, “can’t be too careful.”   
  
Gibbs nodded, slowly lowering his hands. “Next time, disarm your subject first, don’t turn your back. If I’d been lying, you could be dead. Hurting my delicate sensibilities should come second to keeping your ass safe.”   
  
Officer DeLaney nodded, “Yes sir. But I do need to ask you what you’re doing out here. Did you need assistance?” He sniffed audibly, his face getting slightly harder, “and have you been drinking?”   
  
Gibbs sighed and leaned against the bed of the truck. “No assistance necessary, and yes, I have. Got in a fight, found a quiet spot, drank a third of the bourbon I brought for my trip. Keys are in the toolbox in the bed of the truck, and I kept to the passenger seat, I don’t drink and drive. Just didn’t have anywhere else to go.”   
  
“Heard your name at the station. Not real friendly out here to…uh…I guess some people, so I guess that’s why ya didn’t have anywhere to go. Sorry ‘bout that.” The officer was looking more at his feet than Gibbs.   
  
Gibbs snorted. “Yeah, being accused of serial murder just because I’m on a romantic vacation with another man DOES put a damper on the hospitality.” The officer didn’t answer. “Look, let me wallow, would ya?” Gibbs pushed himself upright and stumbled forward on the uneven grass of the shoulder.   
  
DeLaney stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “’Fraid I can’t do that, sir. Neighbors complained…Got someone you can call?”   
  
Gibbs rolled his eyes. _What goddamn neighbors?_ “No drunk tank? I’m disappointed.” He’d been hanging around Tony too long…he got sarcastic when he was drunk.   
  
“Normally yes, but…”   
  
“But I’m a stranger, a fed, and a queer…wouldn’t want to upset the locals.” Gibbs grumbled.   
  
To the young officer’s credit, he flinched at the slur. “Don’t want anyone hurt, sir. You or them. I might not share their sentiment, but I’m not naïve. Look, let’s sit in my car while we wait. It’s cold.”   
  
“Don’t call me sir.” Gibbs growled as he waved his hand in the direction of the cruiser, taking the time to lock the truck.   
  
“What?” DeLaney opened the front door of his car.   
  
“I work for a living.”   
  
As the door shut, Preston DeLaney shook his head. He got enough shit at the station, there was no way he was reporting that he sat with “The Queer Fed.” They didn’t need any more ammo. He couldn’t wait to move out of this backwater town.

_“Fornell.”_

“It’s me. You here yet to keep my ass in line?”

 _“Thought DiNutzo got that job?”_ Gibbs practically heard Tobias roll his eyes at the phone, _“What’d you do now?”_

“Need a ride, Tobias.”

Fornell sighed, _“You owe me. Where are you?”_

Gibbs looked to Officer DeLaney, shrugged, then handed him the phone. The younger man rolled his eyes and took it. “Hello, this is Officer Preston DeLaney, Montana State Trooper. Your friend and I are at the entrance to Skyland Rd, off US 2 outside Essex.”   
  
Gibbs thought he heard Fornell yelling about driving out to the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night, and the trooper made a face at the phone as he held it away from his ear, but he just smirked and took the phone, hanging up without a word. “He’ll come.”   
  
“Good, I could use the nap.” He pushed the back of his greyish green hat up and covered his face with it as he leaned back onto his seat.   
  
Gibbs snorted. “Seems like a good idea.” He was glad if he had to sit in a cruiser, at least he’d gotten one of the cops who didn’t give a damn who he brought on his holiday trip, even if he was a little odd. A few minutes later, he could sense the kid wanted something. He was feigning sleep, but Gibbs knew better. “Spit it out.” He grumbled.   
  
“Wha?” He tipped the hat back, dropping it awkwardly and fumbling to catch it. The young man was probably 25 at most, but he sounded for all the world like a teenager.   
  
“Somethin’s on your mind.” Gibbs cracked an eye to look at him, “So spit it out.” Something wasn't quite right with this guy. Very twitchy.   
  
It was dark, but Gibbs didn’t miss the flush to his cheeks. It took several beats before…”How do you do it?”   
  
“Do what, kid?”   
  
“y’know…being…an agent and…y’know…” He kept shrugging.   
  
Gibbs sighed. He was drunk enough still that he figured he’d be generous. “Honestly, not too many folks know. We work together, were friends for years, they just see what we let ‘em see.” The disappointment in the car was palpable. “But it’s mostly because I’m his boss. We do have rules…and we’re breaking them. Plus…I’m old. I’m from a different era than you, kid. I’m not the one you should be askin’.”   
  
“I’m not…I, I mean, I d-d-don’t think…” Preston hated when his stutter came back. He’s a damn cop…cops don’t stutter. His dad always made sure he knew it.   
  
“Doesn’t matter. You should be OK with tryin’ to figure it out. We’ve got a friend at work, he’s a good kid, about your age, maybe a bit older. He’s out at work, nobody gives a damn. It doesn’t have to be like it is here.” He and Tony both had some issues in the beginning, coming to the realization that they were in love with each other, but Gibbs had a counselor. Tony didn’t, so he went to Ned. Gibbs was beyond grateful to the young man, even if he did have a little crush on Tony. “Look if you ever want to talk,” he handed Officer DeLaney his card.   
  
“Thanks.” Preston’s fingers brushed Gibbs’s as he took the card and tucked it into his wallet. His heart started pounding so hard he was sure the agent could hear it. Or even see it. He was an outsider, openly gay or bi, and if he was sitting out here alone, he probably had a fight with the other agent…it seemed like a good idea…so he leaned forward and kissed the older man.   
  
Gibbs was still tipsy enough that his reaction time was limited. Suddenly, he had a lap full of a slim, fairly attractive young officer, kissing him, pressing him against the seat, and damn if he wasn’t responding;a low moan escaped his mouth as a hand dragged across his groin. Within seconds, though, his brain caught up with his body, and he shoved back, wiping his forearm across his lips. “What. The. Hell?!” He growled.   
  
“I’m sorry…I thought…I just…” the young officer buried his beet red face in his hands.   
  
“Jesus, kid, no…No, you didn’t THINK. At least not with the head between your shoulders.” Gibbs took some deep breaths and tried to focus on getting himself down to less than half mast. Drunkenness may decrease his ability to finish, but it certainly increased the desire, which was NOT to his favor right now.   
  
“But…you liked it, right? I mean…we could…nobody would know…” He sounded small. Afraid of what Gibbs might do.   
  
Gibbs just glared. _“I’d_ know. Doesn’t matter what’s going on at my cabin, I don’t cheat. In terms of THIS,” he pointed to the bulge in his jeans, “I’m drunk, kid. Tipsy, at least. It’s a natural reaction, whether I wanted it or not. Don’t go making a habit of jumping drunk strangers…likely to get yourself hurt. Or killed.” Around here, the latter was, unfortunately, a distinct possibility if young Officer DeLaney tumbled into the wrong man’s lap. Suddenly, bright headlights pulled in behind the cruiser. “I’m guessing that’s my ride.”   
  
Fornell stormed out of the Charger and knocked on the passenger window. “Come on, you drunk pain in the ass.” As Gibbs got out of the car, the smaller agent leaned in, “Thanks, officer. We’ll pick up the truck in the morning.”   
  
Preston waved and smiled, “No problem.” He hoped the pair would come back to the county station where the sheriffs, troopers, and feds had set up shop, and work with the FBI. He couldn’t believe who they’d sent on that team. The leader, this Agent Hotchner guy, was OK, but the geeky guy? “DOCTOR” Spencer Reid. Like everyone was supposed to be impressed by his title. Who cared if he was a genius, he was obnoxious. And did they really think the token black guy was helping them any? Sure, Agent Morgan was built, probably stronger than any of the others, but they were supposed to be the brainiacs of the FBI. Doctor Reid fit that, obviously, but God knows the black guy couldn’t be included in that. He was just a glorified bodyguard hired by some government schmuck playing into the stupid ‘affirmative action’ bullshit.

Preston stewed while he waited until the lights were long gone, before daring to unzip his fly and imagine Agent Gibbs finishing what he’d started.

* * *

 

“Really? Drinking bourbon, in a rental truck, in the middle of nowhere? I got jet lag, I get to hear all about how you blew your damn stack at the head of the BAU, and how I have to keep you in line since you insisted I get out here, and now I have to drag my ass out here to pick you up? Any why do you look like you just rolled out of the sack?” 

  
Gibbs stared out the window through Fornell’s tirade. “Why me, Tobias?”   
  
“Why you? God, you’re an egomaniac. Fine, I’ll bite. Why you WHAT?”   
  
“Freakin’ kid practically crawled into my lap. I’m probably more than twice his age!” Gibbs shuddered.   
  
“Hey, if I was into guys, I’d be flattered. Come on…a hot young girl plopped herself in my lap? I’d forget Diane for a few minutes, I guarantee it.” Gibbs rolled his eyes, although he was a little happy for the two of them that they’d started to work things out. Again. “So…lay it on me. What’s the deal?”   
  
Gibbs folded his arms, grunted, and glared out the window.   
  
“Prick.” Fornell scoffed.   
  
“Bastard.” Gibbs responded.   
  
They went the rest of the way back to the lodge in companionable silence.   


* * *

Tony stared at the bottom of his fifth drink. Two good feet would get him back to his room easily, but he had one good foot, two sticks, and a useless brick. He wasn’t drunk, but tipsy + broken ankle was NOT a good combination. He’d have to quit drinking and sober up here. 

  
“Heya handsome.” A familiar voice broke through his maudlin brooding. He looked up to see Derek slip into the seat across from him.   
  
“Oh God, no more. Gibbs is already pissed Aaron barely looked at me, if you even PRETEND to flirt, his bat signal is gonna go off,” Tony groaned.   
  
Morgan laughed, “Come on man, Hotch was worried about you. No big deal, it’s not like he’s tryin’ to get into those designer pants of yours.” His tone turned serious, “But really…what’s he got to be pissed about?”   
  
Tony smiled at his friend. “You think MY eyes are green? I swear, his are just blue contacts.” The profiler didn’t accept his joke, and Tony sighed, “I think I’m just…I dunno. My history isn’t the greatest. Like, he goes ALL IN, even marries the people he’s with, whether it’s a good idea or not. But me? I can’t commit. Somewhere, deep down, he probably thinks I’m just an easy lay.” Wow, he was tipsier than he thought.   
  
“That’s bullshit, man.” Morgan took his glass and tossed back the last few drops. “No more for you. But really…he’s pissed that your ex is working a case you found?” Tony shrugged. “Look, we’re staying in the lodge tonight, so I got nowhere else to be until 7am. Talk to me. Then I’ll help you waddle back to your room.”   
  
Tony smirked, “I do NOT waddle! I SWAY. It’s graceful damnit.” 


	6. December 22, later evening

“This one’s me.” Gibbs motioned toward the cabin. The lights were out, which meant Tony wasn’t there. He always left a light on, just a small one, if he was alone. He claimed it was so Gibbs wouldn’t stub his toe in the dark, but Gibbs had helped him through enough nightmares to know different. “Wanna come in?”  
  
“Not crawlin’ in your lap, Jethro.” Fornell smirked as he shut the car door.   
  
“Thank God, Tobias.” Gibbs chuckled. They were bastards, but misery loves company.   
  
As Gibbs grabbed two beers, Fornell grabbed them both. “Oh no. You call me to haul your ass home, I get to tell you you’re cut off.” He swapped one of the glass bottles for a bottle of spring water and tossed it over his shoulder. Gibbs caught it easily and frowned. He rolled his eyes as his friend popped the top off the other beer and took a long pull from the bottle. “What? I said YOU’RE cut off. If I gotta listen to you, I need SOMETHING.”   
  
Gibbs shook his head and dropped onto the sofa in front of the fireplace. “I’m an ass.”   
  
Fornell sat next to him. “Shoulda called me first, I could’ve told you that.” When Gibbs didn’t give a dry retort, Fornell sighed. “What did you do this time, Jethro?”   
  
“Did you know Tony was in a relationship with Agent Hotchner?”   
  
Fornell raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t even know Hotch swung that way. Then again, you hide it pretty well too. Come to think of it…you and him are a lot alike.”   
  
Gibbs chugged his water and sat the empty bottle on the end table. “Noticed that. Lost a wife, killed the guy who did it, the whole nine yards.”

Fornell nodded, “Yup, knew that. Has a kid too. DiNozzo know all about your first ‘vacation’ to Mexico?”

“Never outright told him, but he’s an investigator, he knows. Anyway, when he told me about this relationship, I didn’t react well. I hurt him, Tobias.”   
  
“Oh god, Jethro, don’t tell me you hit your boy?” Fornell knew Gibbs had a temper, but he never thought he could do that.   
  
“No. Only bruises I give him are the ones he asks for.” Gibbs smirked as Fornell spit some of his beer onto the floor.   
  
“Really?! Gah! Oh, that’s…Jesus, Jethro. Thank you. Now I have beer on my tie.”   
  
“Any chance to get you, Tobias. But no, not physically hurt…worse. I implied…hell, I SAID, that he had probably jumped into bed with him right away.” Gibbs rubbed his stubbled cheeks with his hands. “I called him _easy_ . Basically.”   
  
Fornell sighed, “Oh man.”     
  
Gibbs dropped his head into his hands completely. “We danced around each other for 9, almost 10 years. Nine damn years, and Hotchner gets him after a few conversations at a bar. I saw red, Tobias. Pissed at myself for hiding, when someone else just went for it. And I put it on him.”   
  
“Probably should tell _him_ that.” Fornell sat his empty beer bottle on the end table nearest him.   
  
“Then some confused local cop jumps in my lap…damnit, I shoulda pushed him back sooner, but I didn’t.”   
  
“Well, THAT, I can tell ya, Tony won’t care. Wasn’t your fault, and you did push him away, so no harm no foul.” Fornell shrugged.   
  
“Still feels wrong.”   
  
Fornell shook his head. “I’m not sure I like ‘post-counseling’ you. All these FEELINGS. What happened to just drinking and eating takeout in silence?”   
  
Gibbs looked at him and crooked an eyebrow, “What happened to hating our ex wife?”   
  
“OK, I’m taking that as my cue to leave.” Fornell stood and grabbed his coat.   
  
“Aw, Toby, come on! Fool me once, shame on you…” He smirked.   
  
“Sober up, Gibbs, before your boy gets back. And by the way, the BAU is staying here in the main lodge. Might want to have breakfast sent up to the cabin if you can if you want to avoid them. They’re meeting at the station at 7 if you want to help…but I didn’t tell you that.”   
  
Gibbs nodded, “Hey, Tobias…” When the man paused at the front door, he continued. “Thanks.”   
  
“See you tomorrow Jethro.”   
  
Gibbs waved as the door shut, then went to the fridge for another bottle of water. 

* * *

  
“No, No, really!” Tony gesticulated widely, “He asked her if she was gonna try it on! Kate glared at both of us for WEEKS!”   
  
Morgan snorted at the story. “So much for sexual harassment seminars…”   
  
“They stopped making us do them when Abby licked me.”   
  
Morgan laughed loudly, “We can NEVER let her and Garcia meet. EVER.”   
  
Tony’s eyes went wide, “Oh god, the trouble they’d get into? And of course there’d be _no_ evidence.”   
  
Their revelry was interrupted as Fornell stepped up to the table. Both younger agents looked up at him and he just sighed. “He’s sobering up in your cabin. For what it’s worth, he’s a bastard.” He clapped Tony on the shoulder and left.   
  
Morgan tilted his head slightly to the side and relaxed back in his seat, looking at Tony. “Ball’s in your court, man.”   
  
Tony let his head drop back. “I know.”   
  
“You said he was good to you. Were you lyin to me? Cuz if he makes you feel like everything is on you, or you’re crazy, or whatever, that’s abuse, man.” Morgan raised his eyebrows.   
  
“No! God, no, Derek. He’s not fucking gaslighting me. He said something he didn’t mean and we both overreacted.” Tony was appalled Derek would think that, but when he saw the look on his friend’s face he narrowed his eyes, “OK, that was mean. You knew I’d defend him.” _Damn reverse psychology._   
  
Morgan smirked and raised both hands, “Profiler, man. Look, shit happens, we all say shitty things. Go back there, rip him a new one, then throw him on the floor and have some hot, sweaty makeup sex in front of the fire.”   
  
Tony groaned and gestured to the foot he’d propped on a chair, “I don’t think THIS is all that sexy, Derek.”   
  
“Pretty sure he’s not in love with you for your ankle, Handsome. Need a ride back?”   
  
Tony shook his head. “You’ve been pumping me full of whatever this fruit seltzer stuff is for nearly 2 hours, I’m stone sober now. But thanks. See ya tomorrow.”   
  
“Ho, wait now…what?” Morgan stood as Tony reached for his crutches.   
  
“You think I’m sitting this one out? Gibbs won’t…so you need me.” He stood and wiggled a little to get his balance on the crutches.   
  
Morgan groaned, “Hotch won’t like it, man. Having a pissing match with locals is one thing, but this isn’t your jurisdiction.”   
  
“Joint. That’s what would happen if we were in DC, and you know it. Look, I’ll keep him out of your hair, or lack thereof, and if we find anything, you’ll be the first to know. But he’ll want to be at the briefing at 7. More manpower means catching this sonofabitch faster, and I have a holiday to get back to.”   
  
Tony’s glare told Morgan there was no more debating. “Fine, but you’re running interference if Hotch gets his dander up, not me.”   
  
Tony nodded and dropped some money on the table for the drinks. He gave Morgan an awkwardly angled hug and swung out of the bar up the path to his cabin. Morgan stood and stretched, nodded to the table of local LEOs (mostly state, some county), and headed to the elevator, ignoring the whispered questions of whether he was a fag too. _Gotta love small towns,_ he thought.   


* * *

  
Tony fumbled his keys at first, trying to balance on one crutch and not lose the other, but eventually he got the key in the lock, turned it with a soft click, and he swung open the door. Inside, he found Gibbs asleep on the couch, an almost-empty water bottle lying in the crack of the cushions, capped, thankfully. And snoring. Gibbs snored when he was drunk. Like a chainsaw. Tony hung up his coat and chuckled, debating how to wake his lover. Several of the ideas that crossed his mind would have worked with his frat brothers, or McGee, but with Gibbs, they might have gotten him injured. “Ugh, you're no fun.” He grumbled quietly, sitting on the couch next to him. No warm water, no shaving cream on his hand, no plugging his nose. He _could_ get away with a kiss, but he was still mad at him. So he poked him with his good foot.

Gibbs startled awake, hand instantly going to his empty hip. Reflex. “Relax, Marine, it’s me.” Tony said, still sitting on the far end of the couch. Gibbs nodded, then groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Advil. Catch.” He tossed the bottle and Gibbs downed 3 of the little brown pills. “I know it’s late, but we need to talk.”

Gibbs nodded. “I didn't mean what I said.”

Tony shook his head, “unh-uh, you never say things you don't mean. So you _really_ think I’m just an easy lay? After almost 2 years?”

“No, Tony. I was jealous…”

“I got that part.” Tony said, an edge of sarcasm to his voice.

“Jealous that I waited 10 years to stop pulling your pigtails, and he…” Gibbs sighed, “he didn't dance around it. He got to be with you without the bullshit. _That's_ what I should have said. I shouldn't have hurt you like that.”

Tony softened slightly, but he still crossed his arms, “no, you shouldn't have. I'm not apologizing for having a past, Gibbs. You've got 3 ex wives to handle, and you _know_ that 90% of my bragging is all crap. Hell, even McProbie knows that. I think. Maybe. Anyway, that was unfair, Gibbs. Unless you really do think that's what I am.”

“No, Tony. I'm a bastard, _that's_ why I said that. There's no excuse. Damnit, Tony, I screw this up more often than not, and I'm sorry.” Gibbs looked at him with a sad smile, “I love you. I’d never see you that way, I just...I put my feelings back onto you.”

After several minutes of awkward silence, Tony opened his arms with a sigh, not able to move easily because his leg was propped on the coffee table. Gibbs crawled up on top of him and wrapped his arms around his waist. After a few minutes, Gibbs nuzzled Tony's neck, then inhaled deeply. “But if he starts getting all touchy feely…”

Tony snorted, “I can handle myself, no worries. Now, rumor has it, makeup sex is pretty hot…”

Gibbs pushed the collar of Tony's shirt down and sucked a deep red mark, just barely above where he could easily cover. “Not that we would know…” he said, teasingly.

Tony gasped, “oh, you possessive bastard,” as he pushed Gibbs off his throat. Instead of being dissuaded, Gibbs simply leaned over and attacked the other side, latching on to the sensitive spot right behind Tony's ear that made him just a little bit crazy.

Tony got lost in the sensation as Gibbs began sliding his hand between his shirt and his skin at his waist. Soon, Tony felt a cold slick finger circling and tickling his entrance, his pants barely down his thighs. “Still saddle sore?” Gibbs asked, kissing and nibbling at Tony’s jaw.

“Nope...but let me get my pants off at least,” Tony chuckled. Soon, they were naked, Tony awkwardly splayed, Gibbs on his knees in front of the couch sucking him down and thrusting into his ass with his fingers. When he felt Gibbs sliding a third finger alongside his other two, Tony clenched his thighs, pushing Gibbs back and panting. As his lover sat back on his heels, Tony patted his cheek. “Let's move this somewhere more comfortable. Pretty sure you can't fuck me properly in this position with Bob here.”

“Bob?” Gibbs looked confused.

Tony snorted, “yeah! I figured if we have to live with this thing, or something like it, for 6 weeks, I might as well name it.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes, “well, I hope Bob likes to watch.” He slid his arm under Tony's armpits and helped him hop the five and a half steps to the bed.

Tony fell onto his stomach with an exaggerated *oof*. He rolled over and winked at Gibbs, “Enjoying the view?”

“Immensely. Get comfortable.” He ignored his arousal just long enough to get Tony situated to where his foot was elevated and the ankle (aka 'Bob’) wouldn't be hurt. He finally pressed himself down between Tony's thighs and kissed him thoroughly. “Tony...I love you. I never, ever thought you were easy. Not like that. Do you believe me?”

Tony nodded and kissed his lover, “I know. Just...we’re gonna fight, I know that, but... promise you'll always come back. Please.”

Gibbs stroked his cheek, “always, and no matter what. I can't promise I won't be a bastard, or that I won't hide out at a bar or the basement, but I promise I'll always come back so we can talk about it. I love you.” Tony smiled and kissed him, as he rolled his hips beneath Gibbs’s. Gibbs grinned into their kiss as he reached between them. Tony gasped into his mouth as Gibbs pressed slowly into his body, turning into a moan as he bottomed out.

Instead of the hot and sweaty hectic passion of makeup sex, Gibbs let the heat build, his hands caressing Tony's body, his lips traveling across whatever skin he could reach.

Tony arched up to meet every kiss, every gentle glide of calloused fingers across his skin. He gasped and moaned and begged for more, and each time Gibbs gave just a bit. Pressed just a bit deeper, sucked just a bit harder, thrust just a bit faster, until Tony was shaking and almost ready to stroke himself if Gibbs didn't do it.

Gibbs slid one hand between them and wrapped his fingers around Tony’s cock, wet with the precum that had already spread across their stomachs. Tony cried out at the touch, and with just a few firm, but slow strokes, his body began to tense. The build to his release was slower than normal, just how Gibbs wanted it. He loved this place, the complete surrender to pleasure. Having Tony beneath him, thrusting and sweating and begging, his body arched and taut, driving toward orgasm. Usually this space was quickly abandoned as just a step toward release, but tonight… Tonight Gibbs let Tony linger, right on the edge, as he thrust and stroked and whispered sweet nothings to his lover until he felt the flutter of breath and the tightening around his cock that told him Tony was tipping over the edge. He thrust just twice more before he joined him, letting his body slide against Tony's, his cum sliding between them.

Tony lay panting on his back, his world a foggy realm of orgasmic bliss. He shivered at the chilly washcloth Gibbs used to clean him, but at his whine, he felt himself pulled into his lover's arms. “Maybe we shouldn't try to make every argument better with sex…” he mused, a frown darkening his face. “I don't do that, do I?” _I’m not that shallow, am I?_ The thought was evident on his face.

Gibbs tapped the top of his head. “No. We made it better _first_ . And _then_ I seduced you and made love to you.” He hated when he fucked up like that. He knew Tony would dwell on it, wonder if or when the other shoe would drop, wonder when Gibbs would finally decide he wasn't worthy. Gibbs squeezed Tony tight. Shit, if anyone was worthy of love, it was Tony.

“You're getting soft, Jethro. Making love two nights in a row? Better be careful, I'll start thinking you're a romantic or something.” Tony poked Gibbs in the chest.

“Hmm… So you're saying I need to reassert my reputation of a cranky bastard?”

Tony shook his head, “that one you'll never lose. But you are known for just taking whatever you want…” He looked at the other man and winked.

Gibbs chuckled, “oh, I'll take what I want, alright.” He kissed Tony and settled under the sheets. “After a little shut eye.”

“Snuggles. You want snuggles.” Tony grinned and wiggled his hips to get closer.

“Body heat.” Gibbs grunted. “Sleep now.”


	7. December 23, Wee hours of the morning

Tony tossed and turned. His brow scrunched and he shook his head, sweat beading across his skin. Gibbs sleepily pulled him close and tried to calm him, but without shaking him awake, which often resulted in violent punching and kicking, there wasn’t much he could do.    
  
“No...” Tony whispered, his voice catching “Can’t leave…”    
  
Gibbs stroked his hair and tried to break through the nightmare. “Nobody’s going anywhere. Nobody’s leaving…I promised... remember? I promised…”   
  
_ Tony pumped their chests over and over again. He knew Gibbs would want him to save Maddie. He’d lived his life, if he died on this pier, he’d be with his girls. If he came back and Maddie was gone, he’d just be pissed. But DAMNIT, Tony wasn’t letting either one go.  _ __   
__   
_ “Don’t you leave me!” He yelled, kneeling over Gibbs again, pressing his lips across the pale grey lips of his boss. After 2 breaths, he knelt up and gave 5 more compressions before shifting over to Maddie. He gave her the same treatment, his eyes still glued to Gibbs’s chest.  _ __   
__   
_ It wasn’t moving.  _ __   
__   
_ He shifted back to Gibbs and pounded hard on his chest, pressed his mouth against the cold lips, wishing with every beat of his own heart that he could pour some of his own life force into this man beneath him. “You can’t leave me, Gibbs. God DAMNIT!” Tears welled in his eyes as he left the man and went back to Maddie. _ __   
__   
_ “He’ll be pissed if you both die, girl…Come ON…nobody has to die here!” But he knew they were both dead. Clinically. They’d been submerged too long, the water in their lungs keeping air from getting to their blood, keeping their heart from pumping. But he kept going. Kept hoping a mediflight would be there soon, someone with equipment could get their hearts started. Suddenly, Maddie started coughing and vomiting, the panic in her eyes evident as she looked up at Tony.  _ __   
__   
_ “Thank god!” She was breathing. That was all that mattered. Tony shifted his attention to Gibbs. “You stubborn goddamn mule, BREATHE!” He pinched his nose shut and did everything right. Followed his annual first aid training. Maddie was shivering, pale, but she was breathing still. Tony couldn’t keep checking on her. He gave the chest compressions he hoped were pumping oxygenated blood to the man’s brain until help arrived. He leaned down again, gave the recommended two breaths, and paused briefly. “Come back for me…please…You can’t leave me…” he whispered into Gibbs’s ear _ .    
  
_ He kept giving compressions. He didn’t care who saw his broken heart, pouring onto the dock below as if he were bleeding out. He didn’t care who was there, trying to pull him away, trying to tell him it was hopeless. He kept pumping his chest, kept forcing air into his abused lungs, until he collapsed from exhaustion. “I love you…” he whispered, before he could stop himself. For the first time, he admitted it, and it was all he felt as he pulled the lifeless body of his boss into his arms. He couldn’t let go, not ever. It couldn’t be happening. He’d never gotten to tell him how he felt. The only time his lips found their way to what they wanted, and it was too late. It was over before it began _ .    
  
“I love you…”    
  
Gibbs kept stroking his hair. “I love you too. Please, wake up…Tony, come on…come back to me…”    
  
With that, Tony’s eyes fluttered open, and he threw his arms around his lover. “You died…you fucking died…Drowned on that pier…I couldn’t save you…”    
  
It was one of Tony's recurring nightmares. “No…no, Tony. You brought me back. I came back to you on that pier. It would have been so easy to go, but you pulled me back. You fought for me.” Gibbs pulled Tony flush to his body, “See, I’m here. All of me. I love you”    
  
Tony’s sobs slowed, and then stopped, but his grip on Jethro’s shoulder blades didn’t lessen. “You sure  __ this isn’t the dream? You’re not just some figment I made up to try and deal with your death?”    
  
A raspy chuckle came from his lover. “I’m pretty damn sure I’m real. I remember waking up, seeing you saving the two of us. I remember you telling me you loved me.”    
  
Tony groaned, “And it took you almost a YEAR to tell me? Do you know how messed up I was after that?”    
  
Gibbs sighed, “Yeah, I knew. But I had my head up my ass, Tony, we’ve established that.”    
  
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Like, one minute, I was thinking about having my lips on yours for entirely other reasons, then the next all I could see was how cold and grey you were.” Tony shuddered at the thought. “And then I’d feel guilty for thinking about your mouth like that, because I shouldn’t have gotten anything positive from that experience. I felt like I was going nuts!”    
  
“I know. I wish I could go back and change it. Kick my own ass. I wish I could make your nightmares go away.” He pulled Tony’s chin up into a gentle kiss, “all of them.”    
  
“Thank you,” Tony flushed and dropped his chin, “You’re helping. Honestly.”    
  
And just as gently as he’d coaxed Tony awake, Gibbs held Tony until he fell back asleep.


	8. December 23, AM

Tony woke to find himself tied to the post of the giant wooden bed, his good leg pinned by the man kneeling above him. Before he could say anything, Gibbs attacked his mouth, wordlessly making good on his promise of the night before, and taking exactly what he wanted from Tony.   
  
Tony didn’t complain one bit, even if his ankle hurt like a son of a bitch when he was roughly rolled onto his stomach so Gibbs could thrust deeply into his body.   
  
“Shit, Tony, why didn’t you say something?!” Gibbs growled later, forcing half a pain pill into Tony’s hand and helping him prop his foot onto one of the dining chairs.  
  
Tony snickered, “I was a little distracted, dear. Didn’t hurt that bad at the time.”   
  
“Still. I got carried away. I’ll be more careful from now on.” The look on his face probably hurt Tony more than his ankle did.   
  
“Alright, Marine, suck it up.” Tony growled. “ _You_ did NOT hurt me. _I_ hurt me, when I didn't say something. If you’re doing something I don’t want, I’ll tell you, so don’t feel guilty because I didn’t speak up. Hear me?” He hated when Gibbs took on more than he should, and if he could reach, he’d give him his own Gibbslap. “Now, let’s mosey down to that station and see what we can do.”   
  
Gibbs kissed him. “Fine, but DON’T you let me hurt you again.”   
  
“What if I want you to?” Tony winked, and Gibbs rolled his eyes as he helped him stand.   


* * *

  
“Pass me that M.E. report on the ranch hand, would ya?” Tony squinted at some of the details on the victim profiles.  
  
Fornell slid the folder across the table. “Jethro, maybe you should get your boy some glasses…”   
  
Tony glared at him. “This dude’s handwriting is HORRIBLE, OK? If you’re not gonna help…”   
  
Gibbs patted Tony’s arm, “alright, I see the wheels turning. What is it? They’re out there working up a profile for the killer, but you see something. Talk it out.”  
  
Tony pointed to the Marine’s autopsy report. “His nails, Gibbs. And this guy…what ranch hand takes the time to wax his junk?”   
  
Fornell rolled his eyes. “Really, DiNutzo? The guy’s dead and you’re hung up on his grooming habits?”   
  
Tony pulled out the notes on the college jock. “Says here this guy had a huge fight with his roommate just before he left for break, but the guy is devastated. Come on, guys, you don’t see it?”   
  
Gibbs and Fornell stared at him blankly.   
  
“Oh for heaven’s sake…they’re gay! Or at the very least leaning toward metrosexual and sending off gay vibes. OK, yeah, I’m playing on stereotypes here, and not every guy who waxes his junk is gay, and sometimes a straight guy just likes well buffed nails, but usually they’re not the kind of guys to spend all day hauling horse shit or crawling through an obstacle course. I mean, look at McGee. He claims to be straight but he’s got pretty nails, but either way, I couldn't picture him hauling hay bales. One out of character thing is no big deal. Two maybe a coincidence, but each of these guys has a little something that pings my gaydar. Especially vic number 1. The roommate is--was--the boyfriend, I’d put money on it.” He pushed a photo of the roommate forward. “But being a jock out here in Montana? That guy wasn’t coming out of the closet for a good long while. Especially being black too—double trouble.”   
  
Fornell  grinned as he dialed Hotch. “You sure you don’t want to transfer to the FBI? We can probably get you a hefty raise, kid.”   
  
Gibbs growled.   
  
“Oh jeez, Jethro, I was kidding. You’ll know if I’m seriously trying to snake your boy.”

“Like you snaked my ex wife?”

Fornell narrowed his eyes as he told Hotch there was an update, then hung up. “When it comes to field work, DiNutzo is hardly sloppy seconds, Jethro. I've been gunning for him for years. But no way could I deal with him after hours.” He shook his head as he slung the door open and stepped into the hallway.  
  
Tony grinned at Gibbs, then followed behind Fornell, and Gibbs held the door for him, as Aaron and Derek came around the corner from the main conference room. “Alright, let’s hear it.” Aaron gestured the men toward the group.   
  
Tony felt himself flush at the room full of expectant eyes, and he REALLY hoped he wasn’t wrong. “I think the victims are all gay. Or at least not straight. The first one, Jeremy” he pointed to the college jock, “was more outgoing. Reading the interviews with his friends, I’d wager a guess that he was the closest to coming out of the closet, and probably bolder in approaching people than the others. If he hit on our unsub, that could be a trigger. Out here, being black is bad enough, no offense locals, but being not-straight? Obviously,” He glared at the deputy who’d so rudely 'questioned’ them earlier, “y’all have some issues with it. I think the unsub is from the area.” He folded his arms as well as he could without tipping over and looked at Hotch and Morgan for approval. He felt Gibbs glaring at him, but the BAU were the ones who’d have to figure out if he was right.   
  
“Statistically, persons of color who are members of the LGBT community are at a much higher risk than white members of being victims of violent crime. And in a rural area that practices such unhidden bias against that same community, there is a high likelihood that the unsub is not only racist, but homophobic as well.” Spencer piped up from the back of the room. “While each of Agent DiNozzo’s observations individually might not indicate such a conclusion, I think that put together, they do make sense.” He nodded to Hotch, and Tony felt himself release the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.   
  
“DiNozzo, with me.” Hotch said, angling his head back to the smaller room he and Gibbs had occupied.   
  
“Not alone you’re not.” Gibbs mumbled, but Tony gave him a *thwack* to the shin with his crutch.   
  
“Knock it off.” He said under his breath.   
  
When they got into the room, and were joined by Derek and Spencer, Gibbs leaned on the table directly next to the chair where Tony was seated. “Do you disagree with DiNozzo?” he asked.   
  
Aaron shook his head. “Actually, we suspected Jeremy was dating his roommate. But nothing about the others suggested they were anything other than straight. What you’re saying makes sense, though.” He looked over his shoulder at Morgan.   
  
Morgan shook his head. “I don’t think I like where this is going, Hotch.”   
  
Tony and Gibbs looked at each other. “So, who’s going to establish Morgan as the bait?” Tony asked.   
  
Morgan threw his hands in the air, “Yup, I knew it.”   
  
Hotch looked between the two NCIS agents and his own. “None of these guys had defensive wounds. They were ambushed from the front. They either knew, or trusted, their attacker. Cases like this, it’s either a woman, given the size and strength of the victims they wouldn’t have seen her as a threat, or law enforcement or other authority figure. If it’s the latter, we need to assume he or she knows what we know, except for what’s said in this room.”   
  
Morgan sighed. “Tony and I were seen at the bar last night.” Gibbs glared at Tony, but he jabbed his foot with the crutch. “I have an idea, but don’t any of you DARE leave me without backup. I got someone to go home to.” Everyone nodded as they came up with a plan. 

* * *

“I don’t like it Der.” Tony sighed, back in the same booth as the night before, this time each with some kind of fruity concoction in front of them. “It was bad enough for me and Gibbs when this all started, but now this little tidbit?” He sipped the barely alcoholic drink. 

“Stop. I know what I’m looking for, Tony.” He leaned back in his seat. “How’s the ankle? You OK? Gibbs treating you alright now?”  
  
“Yes, _mom_. I go tomorrow back to the orthopedist they recommended to get the real splint. At least I hope it’s a splint, not a cast. God, I don’t want to have to deal with showering with a cast.” He groaned.   
  
“I’d pay to see that, Handsome.” Derek waggled his eyebrows.    
  
Tony snorted, “Yeah, and Jethro would wring your neck for the trouble. Sorry man, missed your chance.”   
  
“ _Oh my god, you guys are TOTALLY hot_!!” Garcia swooned in their earpieces. “ _And I’m not the only one who noticed. This is PERFECT. Just enough that the people around you seem to be whispering. Small towns talk. Pretty soon, you’ll be the hottest sortof gay guy in town, my chocolate Adonis.”_  
  
Derek rolled his eyes…seemingly at Tony, but also for Garcia's benefit. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, let’s just enjoy what’s left of the rest of our day, alright? I don’t get enough of this in DC.”   
  
Tony smirked, “Just keep your eyes open for me, OK?”    
  
The whispered conversations around them were fairly obvious, from the surveillance cameras the BAU had installed just a few hours before. And once Garcia sent the videos to Abby to read some bits and pieces of the conversations over the next few hours, the BAU had a list of eight people they wanted to talk to.

"Morgan, go with Reid and work on the geographic profile." Aaron instructed. "Check in every half hour. I want to know which of these people had the opportunity to be in these places. Stay close."

"Got it, Hotch. Come on, Pretty Boy." Morgan wrapped his arm around Reid's shoulder. "Let's work some magic."

"Perhaps we'd be a bit less conspicuous somewhere like the library?" The younger agent suggested.

"Isn't the point of this to make me _more_ conspicuous?" Morgan whispered.

"The point is to appear as though we are protecting you," Reid hissed back. "Hence why we are going alone, although I am not positive it is the best idea. The library also has surveillance cameras. Unfortunately, they do not cover the entire building. We will have to try and set up in view of them..." Reid began making plans out loud, while Morgan shook his head.

"OK, OK!" He held up his hands in surrender. "Library it is, more room to spread out anyway. Let's go genius."

Back in the conference room, the team was slowly interviewing people as they found them. After the third person was fully reprimanded for their unprofessional behavior, but released from custody, Fornell and Gibbs stared at the board. “Hey Jethro, isn’t that the kid who pulled you over? Or…pulled over behind you…” Fornell pointed at one of the photos on the board. Officer Preston DeLaney. His photo had been almost behind that of his father, Officer Albert DeLaney.

“Yeah, it is.” His face flushed slightly when he felt Tony’s eyes on him. He ignored the glare for now, and they pulled up his file and called Abby. These were two of the final people she'd sent, and they wanted to know _why_ . When they finally got off the phone with Abby, they called in Hotch to discuss their findings.     
  
“Now, your profile says the unsub might be repulsed by being approached by a black man…what if he was turned down by one?” Gibbs asked the Unit Chief.   
  
“You’re suggesting the unsub is attracted to these men, and was turned down…” Hotch nodded, “Definitely, either way, the anger in the killings could be from revulsion, or being angry that the men he sees as beneath him are turning him down. Or at least the trigger.” He turned to Gibbs, “What brought that up?”   
  
“Abby tagged them because they were fighting over the 'fags' in town. That, plus the kid came on to me. I thought he was a little too twitchy, but I figured it was because he’s so deep in the closet he didn’t know what to do.” Gibbs shrugged.   
  
It was Tony’s turn to glare. “He came on to you?” He hissed. “When was this? Why didn’t you tell me?”   
  
“Later.” Gibbs grunted.   
  
Hotch pulled DeLaney’s photo off the bottom of the board and tacked it to the top. “Where’s Morgan?” When nobody seemed to know, he cursed under his breath, “Find me every hole in the wall this little bastard could hide. And call Garcia! NOW!” 


	9. December 23, PM

Derek groaned at the ache in his back from the taser. _Damnit…Shit…_ “Spence?!” He started yelling, shouting for the young agent he’d been working with when the two troopers came into the room. “Goddamnit! Reid!” He tried tugging against the bindings around his wrists and ankles, cursing whatever blindfold was over his face.

He thought back to the library. Reid bending over the huge table, maps strewn everywhere, he'd been standing at the end closest the door...two troopers came into the room, claiming another kill. He'd reached for his phone to call Hotch, when the larger of the two had tased him. What had they done to Reid? Morgan kicked himself for letting his guard down. He was _bait_ goddamnit, he wasn't supposed to actually get caught!

 _OK,_ _Wooden chair…slightly wobbly…I should be able to_ … A hand slamming across his face interrupted his thoughts.   
  
“You think I’ll let you have your little boyfriend?” A gruff voice growled at Derek. “Bad enough we got you fuckin’ fags comin’ into our town, corruptin’ our kids, but now it’s the nigger ones? No. Your little white boy toy is safe and sound from you, you freak.” The man punched Derek across the jaw, and he spit blood. “Let me show you what we do to your kind around here, _boy_.”   
  
Derek thought fast and twisted in the chair, just enough to break one of the arms. There were hands on him, trying to hold him down, but he got the sack off his head and just enough momentum to slam his shoulder into the chest of the larger, older man. He wasn’t sure he could win this one, but he just had to buy time. They’d realize he was gone. They could track him. He’d swallowed the tracking device just in case (and thank goodness they wouldn’t have to retrieve the damn thing later). He kicked and threw himself around as well as he could, still partially attached to the chair and prayed to his Baby Girl that she’d come through before these sick sons of bitches gutted him like a fish. 

* * *

  
_“Got him, sir!”_ Garcia typed furiously and sent the location to their phones. “ _Looks like it’s about a 20 minute drive from where you are…go get him! Hurry!”_ She panicked in her seat and paced the room, keeping the line open in case they needed anything.   
  
“Navigate, Tony.” Gibbs grabbed the keys to their truck and practically carried him to the passenger seat. Together, the pack of agents descended on the small farmhouse about 15 miles outside of town, almost smack dab in the center of where the 4 bodies were found.   
  
Tony hated waiting outside, but Gibbs had taken his crutches and thrown them out the back. “Goddamnit! You son of a bitch!” he yelled.   
  
“ _What’s going on?!”_ Garcia shouted when she heard Tony. “ _You OK Slick? Please, please, don’t you get hurt!”_  
  
“It’s OK Pen. I’m stuck here in the goddamn truck because Jethro stole my goddamn CRUTCHES!” He yelled, then took some deep breaths. He saw the flashlights sweeping inside the house, heard the agents announcing as rooms were cleared, and then, suddenly, someone opened fire. There was shouting, orders to drop the weapon, more yelling, more gunfire, until…silence.   
  
It was worse than the panic.   
  
Tony didn’t breathe.

Garcia's nervous pacing had stopped.

There was nothing.  
  
Until Hotch’s voice came through. “We got him. He’ll be OK.” Garcia was gasping into her phone in relief, and Tony sank back onto the seat. 

* * *

  
“I’m still mad at you.” Tony turned his body away from the fake puppy dog eyes he was getting as they sat on the bed.   
  
“And if I’d left those crutches, you’d have come waddling in there, and probably hurt yourself more.” Gibbs said, eyebrow raised. “Right?”   
  
“I don’t _waddle_ .” Tony pouted. “Plus, you had a MURDERER hitting on you, and you didn’t think to mention it?!”   
  
Gibbs flushed at that. “Well, to be fair, it was probably his father doing most of the murdering.” Apparently, the young officer had pulled over the first victim, who had offered oral sex to get out of the speeding ticket. He’d accepted, then later confessed his indiscretion to his superior...who happened to be his father.   
  
“He TOUCHED you!” Tony wasn’t sure if he was mad, or scared. “A freakin’ serial killer groped you.” He turned back to Gibbs. Scared. Scared was taking over. “What if the kid’s dad decided it wasn’t just black ‘fags’ corrupting his son, and started going after anyone? You would’ve been first on his list! He had YOUR card in his pocket!” His heart was beating almost out of his chest, and he couldn't stop the buzzing feeling in his fingers, no matter how much he shook his hands or wrung them together.

Gibbs pulled Tony into his arms. “But he didn't, ok? I'm ok. Derek is ok. Bruises and a black eye, but OK. One bastard dead, another headed to jail. Hotchner got them. I wasn't even there, I'd gone to clear the back of the house with Rossi and Reid.” He felt Tony's anxiety ratcheting up again and just kept stroking his hair. “I’m here. I'm here,” he whispered.

They didn't have sex that evening. They kissed, touched, and eventually fell asleep in each other's arms, and it was nice. Just before he fell asleep, Tony smiled. He'd never had just _nice_ before. He'd never had someone touch him like that without a goal, just to hold him and be close. And he never thought he’d love it so much.


	10. December 24, AM

Christmas Eve started with the smell of bacon sizzling in a cast iron pan. Tony stretched and winced when he curled his toes, but managed to grasp blindly for his crutches. As he did, a pair of jeans and a sweater fell to the floor. “What, you don't want me and Bob au naturel for breakfast?” He joked.

Gibbs leaned over to look at his lover. “ _ I _ do, but I doubt Fornell does. And I'd prefer if Hotchner never saw it again. You've got 20.” He turned back to the tiny propane stove and added another 6 pieces of bacon to the growing stack.

“Wait, what?” Tony hobbled over, confused.

“They wanted to say goodbye and thank you, and I convinced 'em to come up here instead of dragging you and Bob down to breakfast. So wash up. 15 minutes left.”

Tony groaned and swung into the bathroom, sponging off as best he could, and washing his hair in the sink. “This’d be easier with two people…” he grumbled. He’d gotten used to 2-man showers, and he wasn't happy that the feebs were denying him that.

Unfortunately, after several attempts at donning his jeans, he had to admit defeat. He sighed and swung open the door, clad in his grey cashmere sweater with a towel around his waist. “Alright, if we have guests, I don't care right now, I need help, Gibbs.”

Fornell wolf whistled at the sight, and Gibbs gave him a solid slap to the back of the head. “Ow! Hey! Just pullin’ your leg. DiNutzo's not my type anyway.” He settled back onto his chair and took a long swig of his coffee and swiped a piece of bacon as Gibbs stepped into the bathroom.

Tony shut the door and sat on the closed toilet. “Bob isn't helping with the jeans. I wore knit pants the other day...this isn't good, Jethro, I can't cut my jeans. Or my suits. Oh God! Work! My suits!” He started panicking.

Gibbs chuckled lightly, “we’ll get you some cheap pants, Tony.” He laughed even harder at the look of horror and disgust he got at that statement. “You'll be a little mismatched for a few weeks, you're not going to die. But here.” He stripped off his own jeans, brought the hem to his mouth, and tore a strip up one side, to the knee. “We’re about the same size. Close enough for now. Gimme those.”

Tony grinned as he watched Gibbs shimmy into his Prada jeans. “Oh God...that...wow. Keep those. Please.” He swallowed hard at the sight of Gibbs in jeans that perfectly cupped his ass. “I’ll get someone to hem them, but you're wearing those every chance I can get you into them.” He let the towel drop and bit his lip as his hard cock spring free. He winked and grabbed the perfect ass in front of him.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and handed Tony his 10-year-old Wranglers. “Whatever. Come on, get up.”

Tony stood and let Gibbs maneuver his splinted leg into the pants. “One of us is already there...those jeans…mrow...” Gibbs smacked his ass, “Ow!... Shutting up, Boss.”

When they finally exited the bathroom, Fornell wasn't alone at the table. Morgan was with him, a few stitches and black eye evident, but a smile still on his face, and Hotchner was standing with Reid. “JJ and Rossi went to check out, they’ll be here in a few,” Morgan explained.    
  
“I took the liberty of handing out the bacon and eggs, Jethro. Figured you might be stuck in there for a bit, what with your holiday getting back to normal and all.” Fornell winked at him.    
  
Tony swung out from behind Gibbs and smacked his ass, “If it were up to me, we would’ve been…” Then he quickly ducked and  _ almost _ avoided the head slap. “Hey! Injured party here!”    
  
“Children! God, you’re both gonna put me in an early grave.” Fornell admonished. “Look, I’m here for the food, but these guys are offering me a ride back to DC, so make them talk slowly.” He grabbed a refill on his coffee and nodded as Gibbs passed him a plate of pancakes he’d kept warming in the tiny oven.    
  
“Hey, man, look, I just wanted to say g’bye, and once that cast is gone, I expect to see you on the court, my man.” Morgan stood and shook Tony’s hand. “You’d make a damn fine member of this team.” Gibbs huffed a little.   
  
“Yeah, Derek, thanks, but…I got my team. Just call us when you get stuck and need a hand.” He laughed, “and you got my number. Six weeks with Bob, then I’ll be ready to kick you all over the court.”    
  
Morgan grinned and patted him on the back as the crunch of tires announced the other two team members. Reid extended his hand and shook first Gibbs’s, then Tony’s. “Thank you. We might have noticed the connection, but you certainly picked up on it faster than we did. You probably saved someone else from becoming a victim, Agent DiNozzo.” He flushed when Tony flashed him his flirty smile, and slipped out of the cabin, clutching his messenger bag.    
  
“Jethro, I need to talk to you. On the porch.” Fornell stood and started pushing his friend toward the cabin door.    
  
“Can’t it wait until later, Tobias?” Gibbs growled, his eyes locked with Hotchner’s.    
  
“Nope. Walk, ya old coot.” He shoved this time, and ignored the complaint.    
  
Tony stared at the floor as soon as the door shut. He felt Aaron’s eyes on him, but he felt incredibly awkward.    
  
“So…who finally made the move?” Aaron asked, breaking the silence.    
  
Tony snorted. “I did. After the bastard died in my arms…” he shook his head, he didn’t want to think about that day. Any time it came into his head, he felt shaken to the core. “He’s the one I told you about. I couldn't let it go, y'know?”    
  
“I figured.” Aaron stepped closer. “As long as you’re happy, Tony. That’s all I ever wanted. You know that. He isn’t too…much?”    
  
Tony snorted and looked at his former lover. “Of course he’s too much. He’s Gibbs. But if you’re asking if he’s violent or abusive, then no. He’s a bastard, a pain in the ass, and possessive, but I’ve always handled that just fine. For all the energy he puts into those things, he puts ten times more energy into making up for it with me.” He smiled and patted Aaron’s arm, “And Derek?”    
  
Aaron narrowed his eyes. “What about him?”    
  
Tony laughed louder, “Oh come ON! We’re friends, I can tell the way he looks at you. Just treat him right, OK? He’s a little more ‘white picket fence and a family’ than he lets on.”    
  
Aaron straightened and adjusted his tie, “well, there’s not much to say, but…I’ll work on it.”    
  
“C’mere.” Tony opened his arms as best he could without losing his crutches.    
  
“I’d like to keep my head attached to my body.” Aaron joked, jerking his head toward the slightly raised voices on the porch.   
  
Tony rolled his eyes, “Oh stop, I’ll deal with him.” He wiggled his fingers, and Aaron leaned forward into a tentative hug. As he pulled back, he heard Fornell loudly admonishing Gibbs for being an insolent bastard, and they both laughed. “You take care. You and Jack have a good holiday.  _ Don’t _ work, you hear me?”    
  
Aaron nodded. “You too, Tone.” He stepped back and opened the door to a face full of Gibbs. “Agent.” He nodded as he passed and Fornell waved to Tony as he followed. The two black SUVs pulled out of the driveway as Gibbs shut the door behind him.    
  
“Say your goodbyes?” He grunted, focusing on clearing the paper plates from the table.    
  
“Yes.” Tony took the plates from him and sat them down. “Hey, you OK?”    
  
Gibbs tried to turn away, but Tony grabbed his arms. He sighed, “I’m not some Aaron-replacement, am I?”    
  
Tony wanted to laugh at the absurdity, but he knew that was the source of his lover’s anger and jealousy. It was all insecurity. He knew he was a damn fine Marine, and a damn fine Agent, but when it came to love, he fumbled. “Jethro…if anything,  _ he _ was a placeholder for  _ you _ . I hate admitting it, because nobody deserves that, and it makes me a callous son of a bitch, but it’s true. I couldn’t have you, so I tried to love him.” He pulled Gibbs close. “It didn’t work.”    
  
It was Christmas eve…and after their morning appointment with the orthopedist, the pair of them spent a good portion of the day in bed. After Tony made Gibbs do a little strip tease out of  _ the _ jeans. 


	11. December 24, PM

“Yeah, that’s perfect! Thank you!” Tony hung up the phone with a wide grin and bounced on the sofa. “Jethro! Get your snow gear on!” He put the laptop away and clicked the DVD back into its case, then pulled his jeans over the thin splint he’d been issued, thank goodness, and tried to work the sock properly over his toes.    
  
“Where are we going with you on crutches?” Gibbs asked, wrapping his arms around Tony’s shoulders from behind the couch. He smelled like wood smoke and coffee, and it was all Tony could do to keep from pulling him down and kissing him into next week. They'd spent a few hours watching Christmas movies, and Gibbs had assumed they'd be heading to bed early.   
  
“The horses missed you.”     
  
Gibbs scoffed, “you’re that sick of me already that you’re sending me out on the trails alone? It’s dark.”    
  
Tony could barely contain his excitement. He had PLANS damnit. “No, WE’RE going out. A little differently than I’d planned, but it’s all settled. They’re coming to pick us up in half an hour.”    
  
Gibbs sat back and raised an eyebrow. “ _ Who’s _ coming to pick us up?”    
  
Tony smirked. “Maybe I’m gonna make you an offer you can’t refuse…”    
  
Gibbs rolled his eyes, “Alright, I know you’re  _ Victoria’s _ Godfather, but that’s no excuse for such a bad impression.”    
  
Tony pretended to be hurt. “Look, just…dress warm. I have some things I need to do.” He hopped forward, grabbed his crutches, grabbed his duffel and garment bag and made a beeline to the bathroom, locking the door.    
  
Gibbs rolled his eyes. Tony certainly had a flair for the dramatic. Gibbs would be perfectly happy just sitting in front of the fire with Tony, sipping warm drinks, maybe making love on the rug, and never leaving the cabin. But Tony made plans. He always went above and beyond, and Gibbs was certain he wouldn't let something as silly as a broken bone interfere with whatever he had planned. With his ex wives, he felt suffocated when they made plans, when they tried to make him do things he didn’t want to do. But Tony was different. Maybe it was because he was genuinely trying to make Gibbs happier, instead of dragging him along as an accessory. These plans were for HIM, so he let Tony enjoy himself, he let Tony drag him along. Soon the man came out of the bathroom, bundled in his designer snow gear, and there was a knock on the door.    
  
“Are you ready, sirs?” A young man stood at the door, and behind him was a pair of horses and…    
  
“A sleigh?” Gibbs almost choked on the words.    
  
Tony grinned. “A freakin’ horse-drawn sleigh. Awesome, right? Right? Come on! Go!” He pushed Gibbs forward like a kid getting ready to fly to the north pole and see Santa himself. “I didn’t know it would be RED!” He bounced on the cushioned seat, unable to contain himself.    
  
And then Tony found the button that turned on the music. Gibbs groaned as the chorus of ‘Jingle Bells’ blared through the speakers. “Oops…sorry…” Tony flushed and found the volume button. Down, but not off. Of course.    
  
“Here we go! Green trail, you said?” The driver leaned over to Tony.    
  
Tony’s eyes jerked nervously to Gibbs, “Uh, yeah…that…uh…sounds right…”    
  
Then the kid winked at him. Gibbs narrowed his eyes. “Tony…What’s going on?”    
  
Tony grinned, “nothing. Nothing.” He hooked his arm in Gibbs’s and leaned on his shoulder. “Let’s just enjoy the ride.” They tipped back slightly as the horses started moving, but eventually settled in. Tony sighed as he leaned against his lover, the music softly playing in the background, and Gibbs smiled. He wrapped an arm around Tony and leaned back against the seat, the sound of the jangling harnesses, the kitschy added bells, and hooves on packed snow almost lulling him to sleep.    
  
Until they slowed to a stop. “Everything OK?” He asked the driver.    
  
“Yeah, there’s just something on the trail…hold on, sir.” The man jumped down and was gone for just a second, before he reappeared on Tony’s side of the sleigh. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to hop down for a second, let me give you a hand.” Tony shrugged and grabbed the side of the sleigh, hopping down on one foot.    
  
“Shoot…Jethro, can you grab my crutches? I think I left them on the other side…” Tony pouted and balanced against the sleigh.    
  
Gibbs leaned over, but saw no crutches. He checked under the seat, and even along the floorboards. “Damnit, DiNozzo, I’m not carrying you back on my shoulders, what the hell—“ He stopped short as Tony appeared on his side of the sleigh. On his crutches. Wearing… “Where is your coat? And what the hell is this?”    
  
Tony grinned. “So, this was SUPPOSED to happen yesterday on our sunset ride through the clearing…” He held out his hand to Gibbs, the tuxedo jacket pulling slightly on the crutch. “But obviously things had to change.”    
  
Gibbs stepped down onto the trail and his eyes widened. “DiNozzo…” he said, warily. He turned away from the many large red candles arranged in a giant heart in the snow of the hill to see his lover on one knee.

“I know you said you weren't keen on getting married again. So I'm not asking that. But I'd still like to spend the rest of our lives together. If you’ll have me.” He held out a narrow box with two thin plain gold bands.

Gibbs stared at Tony in shock. Quickly, Tony’s hopeful look started to waver. His breathing increased, he licked his lips nervously, and just when he was about to stand and pretend he wasn't serious, Gibbs fell onto his knees in front of him and kissed him. Their knees were soaked and they were both breathless by the time Gibbs pulled Tony closer into an embrace. “Jesus, Gibbs, you scared me there for a sec...I’m taking that as a yes?”

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was known for his love of silence, but he never considered himself truly speechless. Until that moment. He had a lot blowing through his mind, from disbelief, to apprehension, to arousal, to anger that he hadn't thought of it first. But all he did was nod as Tony pulled one ring from the box and slipped it onto his finger. He took the box and slid the other ring onto Tony's finger and kissed his hand.

“OK, this seemed like an awesome idea at the time, and I've already had Peter here taking lots of pictures that I'm sure make this look beautiful, but I'm frickin’ FREEZING now…” Tony said with a shiver.

Gibbs chuckled and stood, pulling Tony up with him. He grabbed the crutches and tossed them into the sleigh, then helped Tony up after them. The driver handed Tony his camera with a smile, pulled a thick blanket from under the seat for them, and picked up the reins. “We'll bring you your candles tomorrow if you’d like, sir.”

Tony smiled, “just a few will be fine, thanks.” He snuggled under the blanket against Gibbs's chest and laced their fingers together, fingering the fine band he’d purchased weeks before. “I love you, you know.”

Gibbs smiled and sighed happily. He pulled Tony closer and rubbed his back with his right hand. “I love you too, Tony.” The rest of the ride was quiet, just the soft Christmas carols rising from the small speaker, and Gibbs kept stealing gentle kisses from his...fiancé? Partner?

He started having a moment of panic, until Tony brought a hand up and smacked the back of his head. “Just let it happen, Jethro.”

Upon their return to the cabin, Jethro wrapped an arm around Tony's back, supporting him at the same time he kissed him, helping him hop ungracefully to the bed. 

“More lovemaking? A guy could get used to this,” Tony quipped as Jethro stripped him.

“I don't care what you call it…” he tugged Tony's pants off and tossed them on the floor. “I just know I need you.” He pushed his own pants and underwear to his ankles and kicked them off. “Now.” He straddled Tony's hips and attacked his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip, his tongue demanding entrance. His hands pressed against Tony's chest, fingers splayed wide, then rubbing against his nipples.

Tony gripped what he could of Jethro's hair with both hands, his body writhing beneath the exploring fingers and Jethro's thighs pinned to his hips. He didn't bother talking, all he could do under the passionate assault was moan his pleasure and hope Jethro wouldn't torture him for too long.

“Tony…” Jethro's soft tone belied the force with which he was pressing Tony into the mattress, the frantic breathing as he kissed and nipped and sucked all the exposed skin he could reach. “I've never had anyone…” He kissed Tony again, slowing his movements suddenly until he stopped and rested his forehead on Tony's. He stared at the beautiful man beneath him, his pupils blown wide, lips swollen, hair tousled from his hands gripping and tugging. He gasped for breath and met Tony's eyes, “nobody has ever done something like that for me. Ever, Tony. I usually hate grand gestures, but…” he gently kissed Tony's lips, “but you meant it. You meant it.” He whispered.

“Of course I did,” Tony grinned. “I’m the king of romance, remember?” He rolled his hips slightly, grinding his cock against Jethro's ass. “Now show me what  _ you're _ good at,” he continued huskily.

Jethro groaned at the brush of smooth cotton against his skin. “You're on a roll, Tony.” He leaned forward to give Tony some space to roll his trunks off, then settled back down, sliding his ass and balls along Tony's leaking cock. Then he leaned forward, cupping Tony's face in one hand. “How about you keep showing me how much you mean it?” He whispered, still rolling his hips against Tony's cock.

Tony dropped his head back onto the pillow and groaned, grabbing Jethro's hips tightly. “You're gonna kill me, aren't you?”

Jethro chuckled, “no, you're too much fun.”

Tony slid his fingers back along Jethro's ass, sliding them across the round cheeks and dipping down the crease as he kneaded the firm flesh. “You want me inside you?” Jethro nodded and hummed his approval as he nipped and sucked Tony's jaw and neck. “I can't prep you like this…”

Jethro paused. He didn't want to move. As much fun as the foreplay was, this was the only thing he missed about being with a woman. Generally, the prep could be taken care of in other ways--kissing, touching, licking. He could just sink into her, slick and ready, no logistics required. He had done that before with Tony, slowly, but it wouldn't work for him. It had been months since he'd had Tony inside him. He didn't want to move, and he didn't want Tony's careful prep work either, so he grinned. “I got it.” He grabbed the lube and reached behind himself as he kissed Tony hard.

“Jesus... Jethro…” Tony felt his cock jump and tense with the thought, and he slid his hand between them, felt the lube dripping from his lover's fingers, felt the tight ring of muscle tense around them. “Fuck, let me…” He dipped the tip of his finger inside as well, swallowing Jethro's moan as his body adjusted to the intrusion.

Jethro stretched and twisted his fingers, faster than Tony ever did, faster than he would with Tony, but he just wanted to get to the good stuff. When he was sure he was ready, he removed his lube-slick hand and wrapped it around Tony's cock. He pumped a few times, mixing the precum with the lube, making Tony gasp and moan, until he tipped forward and angled his hips to guide Tony to his entrance.

Tony knew Jethro wasn't quite ready, but he let him take the lead. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to stay still as his cock was surrounded by the tight, wet heat of his lover. His body tensed and trembled with the urge to thrust into it, but he kept his hips on the mattress. Jethro groaned and gasped as he sank down, trying to get past the ache and burn as quickly as possible. He lifted himself, but found a hand on his shoulder.

“Don't move, not yet…” Tony ground out. Jethro squinted at him, and Tony chuckled, “I don't want to be embarrassed.” Tony felt his body coiled tight, and if he thrust like he wanted to, he probably would have cum in just a few seconds. As much as Jethro wanted to feel Tony deep inside him, he paused. He leaned forward and kissed Tony gently, touching his face and bringing some of the blood north, pulling him back from the edge.

“You want to roll over?” Jethro asked, but Tony shook his head. He knew his lover wasn't particularly comfortable on his back when they were like this, and he wanted to see his face.

“You riding my cock is pretty much perfect, babe.” Tony smirked. He wrapped his arms around Jethro's shoulders and kissed him hard. He swallowed the shuddering gasp as he thrust his hips up, then pulled out slightly and thrust again. “Fuck...I'm not gonna last…” He was almost apologetic as he set up a shallow rhythm, holding himself back.

Jethro pulled himself back and ground his hips down against Tony's, leaning back and resting his hands on his thighs. “Me either. More time for round 2.” He gave Tony a crooked grin and started rolling his hips, getting Tony deeper each time. He threw his head back and gritted his teeth when Tony spit into his palm and grasped his cock, pumping firmly, giving the slight twist over the head that always drove him wild. “You're gonna be the death of me.” He growled, arching his back and panting at the ceiling.

“At least we’ll die happy!” Tony chuckled, thrusting his hips up to meet Jethro's gyrations, pumping his fist in an alternating rhythm only a musician could maintain. He vowed, someday, to make it last when he was inside Jethro, but in nearly 2 years, it hadn't happened yet. It was outside their usual, it was hot as fuck, it was tight and perfect, and Tony always felt like a teenager getting inside his boyfriend for the first time. A recipe for hard and fast, and Jethro wasn't complaining.

“Oh... Jesus...Fuck... God...Damnit…” Jethro was religious and blasphemous now, a sure sign his brain was short circuiting, and Tony wasn't far behind.

He thrust harder, his thighs aching from the force, his bicep cramping from the rhythmic squeeze and pull of his hand on Jethro's cock, his breath coming in shorter and shorter bursts. He had to hold on. Tony focused his energy on Jethro, trying to ignore the orgasm building inside him. He focused on the beads of sweat dampening his chest hair. He brought a hand to the heaving chest and caught one of Jethro's nipples, almost yelping at the sudden tightening around his cock and the change in angle as Jethro's body tensed in response. He focused on the open mouth, the closed eyes, the furrowed brow of the man he loved, so close to release. “Cum for me, Jethro. Just for me.” And then he couldn't hold on any more. He pressed into Jethro with a loud, stuttered moan, pumping his cock hard and fast, filling his lover with everything he had.

Jethro was close, so fucking close, when Tony slammed his hips up, almost roaring his release. That last frantic thrust, the feeling of Tony pulsing inside him, his body taut beneath him, his hand speeding up, all of it sent Jethro over the edge just milliseconds after Tony. He gripped Tony's thighs as he came, arching his back and grinding his hips down, wanting everything Tony had to give. He was pretty sure he collapsed backwards onto the bed, falling between Tony's thighs. He whimpered at the feeling of emptiness as Tony slipped from his body too soon, but the angle was too much to let them stay together.

The next thing he knew, Tony was lying next to him, their heads almost hanging off the foot of the bed, and Tony was grinning like a fool. “We need to do this more often,” he said. Jethro crooked an eyebrow, but Tony continued. “I love making you lose control like that. Like I'm making you see stars.”

Jethro snorted, “I'll make you see stars.” He rolled himself into a semi-seated position, then rotated so his head was on the pillow. He was glad Tony must have cleaned them up while he was passed out; all he felt was a dull ache he was sure would be there for a day or two, no sticky wetness on his skin.

Tony followed him to the head of the bed, kissed him gently, and smiled. “Promise?”

“Promise.” Jethro kissed his lips, then nose, then forehead, as he lowered himself into his customary position of “starfish-opening-an-oyster” and wrapped his arms and legs around Jethro's warm body.


	12. December 25, AM

Gibbs rolled over and stretched as far as he could. He sighed with a slight hum and smiled as the smell of strong coffee assaulted his nose, and the morning sun peeked through the curtains, reflected by the bright layer of fresh snow. Tony had awoken before him, which was unusual, so he chose to linger in bed for a bit. Until his enthusiastic lover noticed he was awake and bounced onto the bed. “Merry Christmas, Jethro.” He grinned and flipped the covers back as he slid himself down between Gibbs's thighs.

Another sigh slipped past his lips, this time a slight moan of pleasure behind it. He entangled his fingers in Tony's deep brown hair as the man practically worshipped his morning erection. He never lasted long when Tony was this aroused. Maybe it was psychological, but he’d be damned if the noises Tony was making weren't driving him hard and fast toward his release. “Jesus Fuck, Tony…” he gasped and tightened his grip in Tony's hair. He was rewarded with an appreciative moan. “God...I'm too old...it's embarrassing... fuck, Tony…” He arched up off the bed and came, much too quickly, down his lover's throat.

Tony sucked and licked at him until the sensations were too much, and Gibbs pulled him up for a kiss. One kiss turned to two, which turned into some heavy petting, which ended with Tony thrusting into Gibbs’s hand and moaning into his mouth as he came. They kept kissing, less urgently by now, but still with passion. When they finally broke apart, Gibbs asked the question. “So...you're not asking me to marry you…”

Tony chuckled, “at least I'm not asking to become the fifth Mrs. Gibbs.”

Gibbs smiled, “yeah, I don't have a great track record there.”

“Although you could always be a DiNozzo…” Tony flinched at the gentle tap on top of his head, then sighed. “I don't know what to call us, honestly. I just know I want to be with you forever.” Gibbs tightened his hold around Tony's shoulders as he continued. “Like, I'm too old to have a 'boyfriend,' and we're law enforcement, so ‘partner’ sounds too much like work, and while I like calling you my lover, that's a bit too personal for casual conversation…”

“Husband does work best, doesn't it?” Gibbs asked.

Tony nodded. “Maybe we could do it  _ our _ way?” He looked into Gibbs's eyes as the idea solidified in his brain. “Ok, let me finish...I saw this on a TV show…” Tony scrabbled off the bed, still sticky and naked and his hair sticking up at odd angles. “So, no crazy public ceremony, no legal papers, none of that. Just us, making promises.” He used the dresser for support, then pulled a pad of paper from his duffel and grabbed a pen. “Like vows. Like you already promised me that you'd always come back.” He held pen to paper and waited for a response.

“That's what a wedding is, isn't it? Promises?” Gibbs asked, sitting up and leaning toward Tony. “I've made those promises 4 times now. Abandoned them three times. Whether I was first or second to do it, doesn't matter. Are you sure you want to take that risk?”

Tony furrowed his brow. “I've trusted you from day one. I'm not asking you to promise we’ll never fight, or even that we’re never going to break up. I never want to, and I  _ will  _ promise to do everything I can to keep it from happening, but we can only promise what we can control.” He wrote on the page:

_ “We will always come back to each other.” _

“OK? Whether it’s from being grumpy in the basement, drinking with friends at a bar, or an op at work.” He touched Gibbs's cheek and noticed the man take a shaky breath.

“What if we  _ can't?” _

Tony knew what he was saying. Their work wasn't easy. There was always that chance of an op going wrong. Like that day in the pier. He crumpled the paper and started over, trying not to think of the implications.

_ “We will do everything we can to come back to each other. No quitting. No running.” _

“I can promise that.” Gibbs nodded, kissing Tony over the paper. “My turn.”

_ “We will listen.” _

Tony nodded as Gibbs dropped the pen. “Like, really listen?”

Gibbs smiled, “yeah. Might not happen right away, cuz I'm a stubborn bastard, but I promise I’ll listen, no matter what.”

“You've always listened, Boss.” Tony smirked, “even when you probably thought I was just rambling on about nothing.”

Gibbs shook his head. “No, if it was just yabba yabba, I put an end to it. But when you'd come to me in the basement, no matter what you were talking about, there was always something else there. Never thought it was just rambling, DiNozzo.”

Tony grinned, “OK, I like it. And I'll do it too.”

_ “Whoever doesn't cook, cleans up.” _

Tony winked and Gibbs chuckled. “Ok, these two are from that show I told you about, but I like 'em.” Tony took the paper back and scribbled two more.

_ “We will love each other even when we hate each other.” _

And

_ “We will take care of each other, even when we're old and senile.” _

“Paraphrased, of course, but…” Tony shrugged.

“Definitely reasonable.” Gibbs smiled. “One more.” He took the paper and wrote:

_ “The past is the past.” _

He looked at that one longer than the others. He'd never made that promise to any of his ex wives. He felt it tighten his chest, and he almost considered balling up the paper and starting again, until Tony pulled it from his hands. “Hey… Jethro…” Tony did his best to climb into his lap. “Just because things are in the past doesn't mean we forget them. Your girls will always have a place in this family, you hear me?”

Gibbs wrapped his arms around Tony's body, letting his face press against the thin skin of the junction of neck and shoulder. He took several minutes, just breathing deeply, getting his emotions under control.

“Did we just get married?” Tony finally broke the silence.

Gibbs chuckled and kissed his neck. “Better than the last 3.”

“Hmmm… Then I think you should kiss the groom…” Tony dipped his head down and captured Gibbs in a soft kiss. “Oh, Abby's gonna kill us when she finds out.”

“Not thinking about Abby right now, DiNozzo.” Gibbs said, his lips working their way up Tony's throat to his jawline. “Merry Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference to the "post-it" marriage of Meridith Grey and Derek Shepherd on the show "Grey's Anatomy"


	13. Epilogue

Tony sucked in a nervous breath as he steeled his nerves and entered the lab.

Abby bounced around her table, still wearing the red and black outfit (with matching red and black santa hat)  she’d chosen for the holidays. It was their first day back, and she’d always taken her cue from the nuns that Christmas wasn't over until at least January 6. She hummed along with the harsh screaming lyrics of her favorite band’s holiday album, oblivious to the presence behind her until she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Oh my GOD!! Don't DO that!” She punched Tony in the shoulder. “You're spending too much time with Gibbs, oh sneaky one. And oh my god, you're on CRUTCHES!!”

Tony felt his face heat up, but he was able to keep it from getting obvious. “C’mere, I have something I need to tell you. Ignore Bob,” he gestured toward his foot.

Abby gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, “oh god...it’s bad...you're leaving? Don't leave us, Tony!” She paused, looking at him, then shook her head, “no, that's not it...you've been happier lately...you and McGee watched Star Wars together, you wouldn't have done that if you weren't happy with us...and Gibbs has been way more laid back...OOH!” She snapped her fingers, “you're being promoted! I know we were kinda mean when the boss man left for Mexico, but if he is happy and retired, then that's different, and you totally were awesome, even if I was kinda mean, and I apologize again, and you totally deserve to take the team, and you're smiling, so it's good news, cuz it’s a smile up to your eyes, and is that it? You're getting the team? I’ll miss Gibbs, but his door is always open, right?”

Tony raised his eyebrows and held up his hands, “Abbs, it’s good news, but you have to promise you won't scream.”

Abby pouted. _Good news...no screaming...Tony’s OBVIOUSLY not pregnant...maybe…_ ”oh my god! You're gonna be a dad?! Who is it?! Who--” it was then that she noticed the shiny new ring on Tony's finger. She inhaled, ready to squeal loudly _Not a scream!_ , But Tony quickly cupped his left hand over her mouth. She struggled to look down at his hand, her eyes crossed painfully with the effort. She felt her body twitching with excitement and she started bouncing.

“No. Screaming.” Tony warned. Abby nodded forcefully, her pigtails swinging with the motion. Tony held his forefinger to his lips and shushed her as he lowered his hand.

Abby grabbed the hand and twisted it every which way, still bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Who? Tony! I didn't even know you had a girlfriend! I mean, I thought maybe, cuz I can tell your flirting is totally half hearted lately, but you got MARRIED?! Oh my god--”

Tony cleared his throat, interrupting her monologue. “Here. It’s inscribed.” He carefully handed her the ring and waited for her to work it out. Things generally went smoother if you just let Abby figure stuff out for herself.

“A.D.D., that's you, duh. I mean, not that you have ADD. Well, maybe a little? No, that's more me. ADHD. Just a little. Anyway, ‘&’...ok, here's the good part...L.J.G.” She pursed her lips. “Am I supposed to know those initials? I mean, there's Loretta in HR, but she’s way too old for you. There's Sister Laura, and she’s totally hot, and if anyone’s gonna renounce their vows, it’d be for you, but I think she’d have told me…” Abby brought a finger to her lips, turning the ring over and over in her hand. “You know, it’s totally ironic that you and Gibbs are so in tune with each other, you even _married_ someone with the same initials! It’s _weird_ . Like, how many people have those initials? And it’s not like you actually married the _boss man.”_ She smirked and looked at Tony.

Tony just raised his eyebrows and held out his hand. “Can I get the ring back, Abbs?”

Abby looked back at the engraving and pouted. “But I haven't figured it out!”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, ya did.”

Abby rolled her eyes and handed the ring back, “nuh-uh! Come ON, give me a CLUE!”

Tony just waited. He saw the wheels turning. He knew...aaaaand, there it was. The lightbulb went off.

“Wait...you and Gibbs?! You?! Gibbs?!” She was working herself up into a bit of a frenzy.

“No screaming.” Tony reminded her.

“But...but...but…” Abby started bouncing again, clapping her hands and grinning like a demented clown.

“Did I break you?” Tony asked, holding his arm out.

Instinctively, Abby tucked herself under it, “you didn't TELL me!”

Tony kissed her forehead, “we didn't really hide it, but no, we didn't tell anyone. Still haven't told anyone, that's our agenda for today, so…”

Abby did a wiggly dance, “you mean I'm the first one you told?!”

Tony glanced at his watch, “give or take a few minutes. Jethro went to talk to Ducky.”

Abby squealed and wrapped her arms around Tony, stomping her feet excitedly.

* * *

“Heya Duck.” Gibbs walked into Autopsy and patted his friend on the back.

“Well, hello Jethro! To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

Gibbs smiled, “well, I got some good news. Figured I should probably tell ya before it came through the grapevine.” He held up his hand and waggled his fingers.

Ducky squinted through his glasses, then looked up at the agent, almost confused. “Please do tell me that this was expected, and that there will not be another ex-wife in your near future? I hate to be negative, but given your track record…”

Gibbs chuckled, “nah, I don't think DiNozzo would make a good ex-wife.”

Ducky grinned, his whole face lighting up. “Oh my goodness! Well, I certainly am happy for you both! How long have you two been entertaining a relationship that is other than platonic?”

Gibbs shrugged, “well, I've been having non-platonic _thoughts_ for several years, Duck, but we’ve been together nearly 2 years.”

“Well, that certainly is wonderful news. I had noticed you've been a wee bit less obstinate lately. I attributed it to what seems to be a lower intake of caffeine and alcohol.”

“Yeah, well...not so much to be cranky about lately. Now I work on the boat ‘cause I _want_ to, not to get away from what's bugging me. End result is a lot nicer, too.” Gibbs smiled, thinking of the fine detail work he’d been able to really work on these past few months. “Might wanna wish us luck...Tony just went to Abby, next is Vance, then the rest of the team.”

“Ah, yes, I imagine Abigail would be a bit distraught to catch wind of this lovely revelation through word of mouth. Our dear director might be a bit displeased.” Ducky looked concerned.

“He really gives us a hassle, I'll retire.” Gibbs tried to sound nonchalant, but Ducky saw the fear behind his eyes.

“Jethro, are you sure that is wise? I understand that sometimes a knee jerk reaction has been known to work for you, but you have always chosen this job over relationships. I cannot imagine how you would eventually feel if you were forced to give up the job for young Anthony. It may cause some resentment between you.”

Gibbs clapped his friend on the shoulder, “yeah, Duck, you're probably right. I promise, no knee jerk reactions.”

* * *

Tony stood against the railing, waiting for Gibbs to come up from autopsy.

“Agent DiNozzo, the director _is_ in, if you'd like to speak with him…”

Tony wrung his hands, “no thanks...not yet...I mean, I'm kinda waiting for…” he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw his husband-- _husband!_ \--jogging up the stairs. “Ok, I think we’re ready.” He smiled and slid his hand into Jethro's, interlacing their fingers.

“Gentlemen?” Vance sat his papers down and looked up at his top 2 agents. “How can I help you?”

Tony shifted his weight from crutch to crutch, then he started talking with his hands, babbling about Christmas, rings, counseling, a whole slew of words that weren't making a whole lot of sense.

“Leon,” Gibbs finally interjected, silencing Tony with a hand on his arm. “We’re together. It’s serious enough that we need to disclose the relationship. Is this going to be a problem?”

Vance’s toothpick fell onto his desk. “Well…” He blinked several times, looking between the two men standing before him. “Technically, relationships between agents is not an issue, but between a supervisor and a subordinate?" He sighed, "Ideally, we’d be able to transfer one of you.” He saw Tony start to protest, but he held up a hand, “Agent DiNozzo, I said _ideally_. In a perfect world, I'd find you another assignment, and everything would be fine. But this is not a perfect world, and frankly, there's nobody else who can handle Gibbs the way you can. How long, gentlemen?”

“Twenty three months.” Gibbs answered, matter-of-factly.

Vance nodded. “Considering the relationship has not affected your work lives or solve rate in that time, I am inclined to let things stay as they are. I will have to file some paperwork, and if any changes are made in terms of supervisors, I will let you know. I need to think about this, but I will not separate you without discussing it with you first. Thank you for telling me. And DiNozzo, you're still on sick leave. Don't come back until you're cleared.” He waved his hand, dismissing the two men.

As the door shut, he dropped the folder in his hands and groaned. He had to figure this out. They made a damn good team, but rules were rules. “Damnit Gibbs…” the man gave him angina.

By the end of the day, McGee and Kate were thoroughly traumatized by Tony’s wildly inappropriate comments about how his current sex life with the boss was going, and Vance had given Tony a promotion. His title was now that of Team Lead, he reported directly to Vance, and he’d work alongside Gibbs until a suitable team was found for him.

If that meant waiting until Gibbs retired, so be it.

 


End file.
